Breaking Point
by tvdlover247
Summary: "I used to think the worst feeling in the world was losing someone you love, but I was wrong. The worst feeling is the moment that you realize you've lost yourself." After everything she's lost, Elena can't find it in herself to fight anymore. But when an ancient threat returns to Mystic Falls, Elena may have no choice but to fight for the few people she has left. Set in late S4.
1. Lost

"_I used to think the worst feeling in the world was losing someone you love, but I was wrong. The worst feeling is the moment that you realize you've lost yourself."_

They always say that you see your life flash before your eyes as you die. Elena supposed it was true—after all, she'd died enough that she should probably have an opinion on that statement. But as she watched the life fade from his eyes, she became _him_. She saw him growing up, relived all of the hardships he'd faced throughout his short life, the pain he'd suffered—most of it was blood on her hands.

She tried to stop, to protect him from her, but she was a part of him and him a part of her. At no point in her life had she lived without him, and now he was gone—dying by her hands just as everyone before him had. And as she saw the last ember of life die, she knew that part of her was dying with him.

* * *

TEN YEARS LATER

"Well you tell Rosaline that if her manuscript is not on my desk by eight tomorrow morning, she's done," Elena snapped into her phone, hearing her secretary's breath catch. Elena no longer noticed the sharp edge to her voice—she'd long since grown used to it and truly enjoyed the fear she instilled in others by simply speaking.

"B-but Ms. Gilbert, she said she just needs a few more days because her mom is in the hospital and—"

"I don't care if her entire family drove into the ocean. She's already missed her deadline twice, and if I don't have that manuscript by tomorrow, I will make sure that her name is mud at every respectable publisher on the east coast. Do you understand, Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Ms. Gilbert. I'll make sure she knows."

A smirk spread across Elena's face as her secretary agreed. "Good. Now get back to work. Mr. Evans is visiting in two days and the office needs to be in top shape for his arrival. You know how much I hate disappointing Mr. Evans, Elizabeth."

"I know, Ms. Gilbert. I'll make sure the office is clean by the time you get here."

"Wonderful! I'm heading there soon, so don't screw it up." Elena quipped as she laid her phone back on her nightstand. She heard a quiet whimper and returned her attention to the young man on her bed. "Sorry, I can't say I enjoy interrupting my personal time with business calls, but sometimes it's unavoidable. Now, where were we?" Elena purred, relishing in the terror she saw in her captor's eyes.

"P-please don't hurt me," the young man whimpered, "I thought we were just g-going to get drinks."

Elena smiled, crawling up to lay beside him on the pristinely-made bed. She reached up to gently move a stray curl from his teary eyes. "_I am_," she whispered as she sank her fangs into his neck. The warmth of his blood spread throughout her eternally cold body as it flowed across her tongue. The sweet and tangy taste of him engulfed her taste buds, noting the delightful hints of freesia flowers and orange zest.

It had taken her years to differentiate between tastes and textures of blood, and even longer to find her specific favorites. The night before, she been bored and had decided to make the trek to the pub down the block for a midnight snack—and had been sorely disappointed in the results. The drunkard hadn't lasted long before she decided he was unworthy and snapped his neck.

_This _man, however, was delectable. Hints of sandalwood and wood smoke wafted through her nose as she pulled one last gulp, releasing his neck from her grasp and looking into his weary, exhausted eyes. She ran her tongue slowly over the bite, watching as the skin knitted itself back together. When she'd discovered this trick a few years ago, a part of her had wondered how the Salvatores had never noticed this power—but she quickly blocked the thought from her mind. "Why are you doing this to me?" he mumbled as his hand came up to grasp his neck.

"Because I have to… Because I don't have anything else. " Elena's eyes clouded over with painful memories, but felt nothing. She had long since turned off her emotions—it was the reason she was the best publisher in New York City. She felt nothing but irritation towards the humans that worked and wrote for her. It was a dog-eat-dog world, and Elena had the guts to eat all of the competition—literally.

"But why me? Why'd it have to be me?" he cried, tears rolling down his face. Elena's face hardened as his yell echoed throughout the apartment. She rose off the bed and began pacing the room as her nostalgia disappeared, replaced with that ever-common irritation towards the human race.

"Because you looked delicious. And you are," she purred, the edge returning to her voice as her head cocked to the side, "But now you've left me in a difficult position. You see, I have neighbors—neighbors that probably heard that little outburst. Now I could let you live and just compel them to believe that my boyfriend likes to get kinky. But it's a lot easier to just do this."

She suddenly grabbed him and shoved him into the wall. "You won't struggle. You wanted this."

She watched as his pupils dilated with her compulsion, and before he could make a sound Elena pulled him through the door to the balcony. Without a second thought, she launched him over the protective railing and gazed at his body as it fell ten stories, landing with a satisfying crunch on the brick ground of the alley behind her apartment.

After locking the door and grabbing her bag she left the apartment, knowing that it would be a matter of minutes until police got the report of a poor young man that had jumped to his death due to the stress of student loans and a gambling addiction. If the neighbors really ratted her out, she would just deny it. Elena always cleaned up after herself, so they wouldn't find any evidence to the contrary. She couldn't find it in herself to care.

As she walked down the busy streets of New York City, she quickly pulled out her phone and dialed Elizabeth. Her snack had taken longer than she'd expected, which meant she needed an update from the surprisingly helpful secretary. As useful as the emotion-switch was, it had enhanced other parts of her personality—namely her need to constantly know what was happening that stemmed from the multitude of death threats she'd experienced in her 28 years.

Elizabeth picked up after only one ring, just as Elena had instructed her to years ago when they'd first begun to work together. "Ms. Gilbert, I was just about to call you. Mr. Evans called to tell you he's coming tomorrow instead of Thursday."

Elena groaned. That insufferable man had been the bane of her existence since she'd left Virginia. She'd risen to power in Evans Publishing quickly using her writing skills, education, and compulsion to become the lead publicist of the company—the only position below President Evans. He continually told her what to do, which would be no problem for her compulsion—if she could ever get past his body guards and entourage. "Fine. That just means I need you to call Rosaline back and tell her I need the manuscript in four hours. Okay, Elizabeth? Oh, and you need to make sure that Mr. Evans' car is ready at the airport by f—

Elena was cut off as she slammed into someone, her bag and phone falling to the ground. She hadn't been taken by surprise in years, but had been paying so much attention to the call that the man seemed to appear in front of her out of thin-air. "You've got to be _kidding _me!" she griped as she leaned down to retrieve her things, still not comprehending the stupid human man until he spoke—not as if he'd just run into her on the sidewalk, but as if he knew her life story.

"I'm sorry."

She froze as her blood ran cold, her brow furrowing as she tried to place the voice that she hadn't heard since that night ten years ago. Then it hit her. Her mouth began to open and her eyes widened in fear and surprise as her breath caught in her throat. She kept her head low as she rose with her bags in limp arms, trying to pretend as though her two worlds had not just collided in a cataclysmic way.

But she could no longer avoid his powerful gaze—it was as if he was compelling her to meet his eyes. Elena slowly turned her head toward the face she knew would be there. The ice-blue eyes she was faced with made her stagger backwards. She had left him behind—had left them _all_ behind. He was part of a different life, and one she had never wanted to return to. Taking in a shuddering breath, she whispered the name she never thought she'd have to say again.

"Damon," she breathed as shock coursed through her body. Elena had left Mystic Falls ten years ago without thought—and without goodbyes. She'd always figured Damon would show up again, but had never imagined it would be this soon. They had eternity, after all. But now seeing him after all this time, she couldn't remember how she'd went two years without jumping his bones. This man was _gorgeous_, and he was gazing directly at her.

Elena steeled her gaze as the surprise wore off, and returned to her normal attitude. "It's been a long time, Damon. I didn't think I'd ever see your face again."

He gave her an odd look before responding. "You know it'll take a lot more than a seven hour drive to keep me from finding you," he smirked, playing along and jumping right back into their carefree banter from years ago, "So this is where you live now? I can't say I had you pegged as a big city girl, Elena."

Elena smirked as she started walking, sending a suggesting glance for him to follow her. "What can I say? Small town life is boring. It was time for a change," she answered, countering with a question of her own. "But what are you doing here? For some reason I doubt it's just to see the Statue of Liberty."

The smirk on Damon's face disappeared, and Elena knew that she wasn't going to like his reason. "I came to bring you back to Mystic Falls. Caroline—"

Elena interrupted him with a short laugh before shadow fell across her face. "If you think I'm ever going back to that hellhole, you're sadly mistaken. That town has nothing left for me—it's already taken everything from me."

Pain flashed across Damon's features as he remembered all the pain Mystic Falls and its creatures had caused her before he refuted her statement. "What about your best friend? She's still alive and she needs you a hell of a lot more than the people in New York."

Her step faltered as she turned to face him. "Who, Caroline? What happened to her?" she asked, trying to sound concerned but failing horribly.

"Her mom died a few days ago. It's practically destroyed her."

Elena paused, recalling the woman that had helped raise her and trying to find some emotion other than irritation that Damon was here ruining everything she'd worked towards for years. "Is that supposed to mean something to me? I told you I couldn't care less about anyone or anything in that town."

"But Caroline is your best friend, Elena! Why aren't you…" Damon trailed off in thought, attempting to determine what was different about the woman in front of him. Finally, his eyes widened as he realized the truth. "You turned it off," he muttered in disbelief.

"Turned what off?" Elena replied with a fake expression of confusion and innocence. She'd known that he'd figure out that she'd flicked the switch, but it had taken him longer than she'd expected. It disappointed her a little.

His shock turned into anger as he realized she knew exactly what he meant. "Your emotions, Elena. Why the hell would you turn them off?"

She chuckled, "Oh, those pesky little things? Can't say I miss them much. All they did was get in the way."

"Elena, this isn't you. You're better than this!" he growled, grasping her arm in a hold she couldn't break. In the past ten years she'd never been overpowered—there weren't enough vampires in New York to pose a threat. She didn't like feeling weak, but there was nothing she could do to stop him.

"Oh it's very much me, Damon," she gritted through her teeth, and ugly scowl marring her features, "This has been me for ten years, and it'll continue to be me for as long as I want."

"No. You're not this person, Elena. You're good, and you're caring—and the biggest freaking martyr I've ever met. You'd do anything to keep the people you love safe. Remember that person? _That _is the real Elena Gilbert, and I'm not going to let you keep living this lie you've created in New York. You belong at home, Elena."

"I'm not going," Elena hissed, twisting her arm out of his hand. She began to walk away when some clueless human slammed into her shoulder in his haste to get to work.

"Hey, watch it!" the man snapped at her, but before he could get away she grabbed him by the wrist and gazed into his eyes. She vaguely heard Damon trying to stop her, but she effectively ignored his protests as she instructed her poor captive.

"Do you see that car driving towards us? I want you to kill yourself by jumping out in front of it. Do you understand?" Elena compelled, smirking as the man muttered in agreement.

She watched in awe as he bounded off of the sidewalk, hurtling himself towards the speeding car. Staying only long enough to watch Damon launch himself to protect the man, Elena heard the sweet crunch of bones as the man's neck snapped while she made her escape from the man who had made her old life a little less miserable and was now threatening to tear everything she'd built apart.

* * *

A/N: I've had this story stuck in my head for months, and I finally decided to write it down. I still have two other stories that I'm in the middle of writing (and I've sucked at updating them. Like, A LOT.), but I have had such bad writer's block with them that I thought getting this story out might help! This story takes place sometime late in the season, and you'll see why later in the story.

Finally, I've obviously never seen Elena without her emotions (yet—I'd love to see it on the show!), so any suggestions would be great! If you have any comments, critiques, questions, or concerns, I'd love to hear it! Feedback is love, people, so read and review!

-Kiki :)

_Quote: Elena Gilbert, Season 4 Episode 5, "The Killer"_


	2. Back to Black

_"Vampires can turn off the part that`s human. That`s the part that hurts."_

Elena watched as people filed in and out of the restaurant, analyzing the relationships and interactions between the humans as if they were specimens in an experiment. After she'd arrived to New York in late 2010, she'd found the incessant chatter and drama of the mortals an annoyance. But as the years dragged by, she'd begun to find their petty lives amusing—almost entertaining—when they weren't so damn aggravating.

Damon's appearance that afternoon had left her rattled. She'd immediately called Elizabeth to tell her that she was feeling ill, and had hailed a cab to the other side of the city. If Damon had found her walking on the street in the middle of Manhattan, it meant that he'd probably been following her long enough to know where she worked, lived, and ate. Now she was in some tacky pizza joint on the fringes of the city, and she was hungry—but she knew that she had to keep a low profile if he was tracking her, or else he'd find her immediately. His "Snatch, Eat, Erase" tactic had helped her a lot over the years since she'd never wanted to hide bodies, so she figured it could come in handy tonight if she got desperate.

Her to-do list had grown exponentially today, and she didn't appreciate it. Mr. Evans was coming tomorrow, and as the president of the company he could fire her in an instant if she didn't live up to his expectations. Granted, she could always compel him _and _his body guards if they got in the way (since they never seemed to leave his side), but Elena generally didn't like to compel multiple people—there was a bigger chance for things to get messy.

On top of the mess at work, she now had to run from Damon. Normally that wouldn't pose a problem—after all she'd been running from her past for years—but she was never very good at hiding from Damon, and he knew it. He would never have shown up if he didn't know that he could find her. Then, once she managed to get away from him, she needed to figure out how to get him out of New York. He didn't belong in her city, and she wasn't going to let him take it from her like he had Mystic Falls.

Elena's thoughts wandered to the godforsaken town she'd once called home as she continued to watch the patrons file through the restaurant. She'd been sitting at the table alone for over an hour when another server walked over to wait on her.

"Hi ma'am! Welcome to Partner's Pizza. Can I get you anything to drink?" the perky young waiter asked, working hard for the large tip he predicted she'd give him from her designer bag. Elena could tell by his happy expression that he was trying to flirt with her, but she had long since lost interest in human men. Or anyone, really.

Elena looked up and smiled sweetly. "Oh, any drink you have probably isn't what I'm looking for," Elena stated, her hunger beginning to show through her speech—but the boy didn't seem to notice the hidden meaning in her words. And why would he? Vampires aren't real, and neither are witches, werewolves, hybrids, and… Elena stopped her thoughts before they went too far, and focused instead on the newcomer to the conversation.

As soon as she heard the velvety voice speak, she knew she'd been found. "Actually, I'm pretty sure the lady would like a bourbon—and so would I," Damon stated from behind her. The young waiter's face instantly fell—his hope of getting laid that night shot to hell as he walked away to grab the drinks. Damon slid into the seat across from Elena with a sad smirk on his face as Elena huffed in annoyance, her mouth turned downward in a grimace.

"How'd you find me, Damon?" Elena asked, clearly irritated by the turn of events.

"I called Bonnie," he replied casually, "Make the map a little more detailed and it's surprisingly easy to find someone—even in one of the tackiest pizza joints in Downtown Manhattan."

"Ah." Elena rolled her eyes, not surprised that Bonnie had managed to find her. She figured the witch had practiced plenty since Elena had left (although it _did _surprise Elena that she was still alive—witches generally led short lives). The disappointed waiter soon returned with their drinks, setting them down on the table and scurrying away towards his next possible conquest. "What do you want, Damon?" Elena griped, her shoulders shrugging up in question, "Because all _I_ want is for you to leave, but clearly that's not happening."

"I want you to come back to Mystic Falls with me."

Elena guffawed, laughing as she quickly replied, "And that's not going to happen, either."

Damon frowned, his brow furrowing in a way reminiscent of Stefan. "Why not? Your best friend's mom just died and she needs you! Mystic Falls is your home, Elena. It's time you come back to it."

"_This _is my home, Damon. New York, not some crappy town in Virginia. My life is here—my job, my house, my friends."

"You don't have any friends, Elena," Damon growled out bitterly, "They're all back in that 'crappy town in Virginia'."

Elena pouted, her face twisting into a Katherine-esq expression. "You're right, Damon," she agreed, but swiftly throwing out her final statement, "But that doesn't mean I'm going back to Mystic Falls. That town has nothing to offer me."

Grabbing her bag and throwing a handful of bills on the table, Elena got up and flipped her hair over her shoulder. Damon watched in confusion as she nodded goodbye for what she hoped was the last time. "As much fun as this has been, it's time for me to get home. I've got a big presentation tomorrow for my _job_," she emphasized. "It's been nice seeing you, Damon. Maybe we can meet up again in a couple of decades," she suggested with a wink. After seeing Damon's face, she quickly amended the statement, "or not… Goodbye, Damon."

Elena waltzed out of the door, surprised by the lack of people on the streets. She generally tried to stay away from this part of town, but she'd gotten desperate in her attempt to escape Damon. A lot of good that did. As soon as she stepped out of the front door she was walking briskly towards the end of the street when she heard her name.

"Elena, wait!" she heard Damon's warm voice yell out of desperation. She turned around slowly to see Damon speed over to her. "Please," he begged, "just... come with me. I know you don't care about Caroline, but can you do this for me? We can act like it's a time-out, even!"

Elena let out a deep breath. "Damon, I can't lea—"

"_Please_," he continued, "We'll be there for three days tops, okay? Then you can come back here and live out the rest of eternity in peace. Just a time-out, right?"

She pondered over his offer, knowing that if she did this she'd never have to revisit her past again. But she wasn't sure she'd get out of Mystic Falls with her sanity intact—even after only three days. The town held so many memories, and if she let her guard down for even a moment, everything she'd kept buried for a decade could collapse on her. Elena grunted, a look of consternation coming over her face as she finally answered his plea.

"Fine," she forced out of her mouth, "_Three days_, and then I'm back here and none of you ever contact me again. Do we have a deal?"

Damon's face fell when she said he had to leave her alone forever, but he figured he could talk her out of that if he tried. So with strong conviction, he agreed to the deal.

"Okay. Let's go."

* * *

"Answer this for me," Damon questioned as he steered the Camaro on the open highway, "If you don't care about anything, why did you get a job? That seems like a lot of work for something that doesn't matter to you."

Elena's eyes stayed glued to the book she'd been reading for the past 3 hours. She'd made her calls to the office to tell Elizabeth that she was sick and would be gone for a few days, and her mind had begun to wander. They were on their way back to Mystic Falls, and as boring as the book was it was something to keep her mind off the town's imposing memories. She was scared that it would bring things up that she'd kept buried for years, and she didn't want to have to face those thoughts. Cocking her head and narrowing her eyes, she sated his curiosity.

"Ten years is a long time to not have anything to do, Damon," Elena shrugged, "At least as the lead publicist of a company, I can scare the hell out of people without having bodies to clean up. Plus, it's amusing to watch my employees cower in fear around me—and they don't even know the fangs behind the face."

Damon nodded his head, but quickly voiced another question that came to mind. "How do they believe that you're in your late 20s? I mean, you don't look a day over twenty."

Elena glanced over at him with a small smile. "Why thank you, Damon," she replied sweetly, rolling her eyes at his attempt at flattery, "In New York, they've adopted a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. There are enough botox clinics in one block of that city to turn the entire state into virtual-immortals. And everyone that's known me long enough to notice is too scared of me to ask."

The two fell back into semi-comfortable silence as the road dragged on. Elena went back to staring at the page in her book, barely paying attention to the words on the page as her mind wandered to the last night she'd been in Mystic Falls. As soon as she made herself stop thinking about it, Damon had come up with another question for her.

"So what's it like? Being all unattached and emotionless?" Damon questioned, an interested spark in his eye that she hadn't seen in years.

"You should know," she replied facetiously, finally closing her book with a thud and turning her head to face Damon. "You did it for years before you came back to Virginia."

Damon smirked as he corrected her, "Nope. I've never turned off my emotions. When you met me, that was just me being a first-rate jackass. I still had plenty of emotions, I just covered them up with lots of booze and lots of blood. But _you_—you really flipped the switch. So tell me, what's it like?"

"Why? Are you planning on joining me anytime soon?" Elena questioned playfully, doing the famous eye-thing that had always been Damon's calling card. Rolling her eyes when she realized he wanted a real answer, she told him. "I still feel things, they're just dulled to the point that I don't care that they're there."

"Really?" he asked quizzically, brows furrowing in confusion.

"I mean, I still feel things like anger and fear pretty strongly, but those are more reactions than emotions," she tried to explain, "Joy, sorrow, I still feel those, but they aren't strong enough to affect me or my actions. They only mess with my head when I'm stuck in a bad situation—but as soon as the situation is taken care of, I'm back to badass Elena. And that's exactly how I like it."

"Bad situation? Like when I showed up out of the blue after ten years?" Damon questioned, and at Elena's nod he continued, "Hmm, interesting."

Elena smiled a little and made a suggestion. "You should try it one day. It's a hell of a lot more fun without all of that heavy stuff hanging over your head."

Damon shook his head. "I care too much to turn it off, Elena. I'm pretty sure I remember you telling me something along those lines before, Elena."

"See, that's the great thing about it, Damon," Elena refuted, "You don't _have_ to care anymore. It's a much easier way to live—and it's much easier to stay alive."

Damon frowned as he began putting the pieces together. "Is that why you did it, Elena? Because it was easier to live without having to feel things?"

Elena's face went blank, the only thing he could see on her face was the memories of a time long gone. "I did it because I couldn't function, Damon. I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe… I could barely even move without each step feeling like I was crushing every bone and organ in my body. _That _is why I turned my emotions off, and that's why I've kept them turned off since I left. Because I know that the second I turn them back on they'll destroy me—and I've worked too hard to fall now."

The two fell back into silence, an uneasy agreement to leave the past behind settling between them as Elena returned her focus to her book and Damon's focusing on the road again. They drove for hours, and as they drove past the Mystic Falls welcome sign, her worry grew to an infinite level.

Every building they drove past brought memories to her brain, some happy, some sad, and some more painful than she'd expected, but it still was nothing compared to the breathlessness she felt when they finally pulled into the driveway of the building she'd thought of as her second home for years—the boarding house. Thankfully her emotions weren't strong enough to break the switch she'd kept so carefully in place for years, and if she could survive the initial entrance to the town she could last three days in this hellhole of her old life.

Now that was all just a memory.

* * *

A/N: We're off on a roll! First of all, you may have noticed that I changed the name of the story. I felt like "Breaking Point" fit the storylines better, and I hope it didn't mess anyone up! Also, I would've gotten this chapter up sooner, but my hard-drive crashed last week and I hadn't gotten my computer back until today. Thank you to all of the people who favorited and alerted the story! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope I can get the next chapter updated soon! Feedback is love, people, so read and review!

-Kiki :)

_Quote: Elena Gilbert, Season 2 Episode 21, "The Sun Also Rises"_


	3. Meet & Greet

"_There are six other bedrooms in this house. Go find one."_

Damon pulled the car up the long, winding driveway, putting it in park and quietly turning the car off. He glanced over at Elena, seeing as she fought a war within herself on whether to fight or flee before anything bad could inevitably happen. Her emotions may not have been affecting her, but after everything she'd been through here it would have been stupid _not _to worry about what would happen this time. He got out of the car and walked to the other side to open her door like a gentleman. She slowly got out of the car, putting one hand on the roof and the other on the door to steady herself.

After standing motionless for a few moments, she moved to grab her bags out of the back of the car. Elena and Damon walked silently up to the front door as she recounted the appearance of the house years ago versus the damage that age had done to it. She knew there'd been a big storm there a few years back, but it looked as though the house had taken minimal damage—since she knew Stefan and Damon would never have let someone change anything on it unless it had been destroyed.

Another door to the past opened as Damon pulled his keys back out to unlock the door, quickly muttering to Elena. "Just f.y.i, I haven't had anyone over in ages."

Elena let out a strained chuckle. "For some reason I highly doubt you haven't had any girls over in ten years. I know how much you love your tri-delts."

"You'd be surprised. After Stefan, Caroline, and Tyler moved away, Bonnie was the only one left here—and you know how much she likes me. They came back when they found out about Caroline's mom, but it's only temporary. Stefan's staying here, and Caroline and Tyler are at his house. And I haven't really wanted to have anyone else over since you left."

The two stepped into the house and Elena set her bag down by the door. Her brow furrowed in confusion, questions zooming through her mind. "When did they move?"

"Well, they couldn't stay because people would start to realize that they weren't aging, so probably about 7 years ago. I, however, am old enough that they just believe that I'll be a complete stud until I'm 50," Damon smirked, walking into the parlor to fill two glasses with bourbon. He handed one to her, receiving a small grin and chuckle from her.

He gazed into the fireplace, knowing that one thing was weighing on her mind—whether it be from guilt or curiosity, he wasn't sure. But he quickly answered her unspoken question. "Jeremy's funeral was beautiful."

Elena found herself surprised, but realized that he had always been able to seemingly read her thoughts. "Really? I'm almost sorry that I wasn't there."

Damon looked away from the empty hearth, examining her face for any sign of emotion. None. But he continued, nevertheless. "Yeah. It had rained everyday that month, you know? But the day of the funeral the sun was shining and the clouds were gone. It was like someone was looking down on him," Damon suggested, and he thought that he saw a spark of something in her face, and continued to try to pull at her heartstrings, "And the service? It was beautiful, too. I even got up to the podium and spoke about him for you, since you weren't there."

There it was, the guilt trip he used to attempt to turn her emotions back on. She muttered a quick "Thank you" and felt a pang of regret, but nothing too painful, as she went back to sipping her drink in silence. Damon was surprised by her lack of a snarky comeback, but found himself enamored with the thoughtful, silent version of Elena. This was the closest to the real Elena as she'd been since he'd seen her again in New York, and he didn't want to lose her.

Life, however, had other plans. The peace lasted for a few seconds until Stefan walked in through the front door. Judging by his shocked expression, he was clearly surprised to see Elena standing in the parlor. He glanced between his brother and her, trying to put two-and-two together. Stefan hadn't seen Elena since 2011, and the confusion was clearly evident on his face. Elena's eyebrows rose in understanding as a small smile graced her face, and Damon knew that she was back to her 'Katherine' persona.

"Ooh, I can feel the awkwardness in the room. Let me guess, Damon didn't tell you that I was going to be in town?"

"No, he conveniently forgot to mention that," Stefan growled, turning to face his brother, "Why the hell did you invite her? The last thing Caroline needs right now is Katherine wrecking havoc."

Damon's eyes grew at Elena's surprised laugh. "You never could tell us apart very well, could you Stef?" she smirked, a hint of disappointment laced through her expression. Elena didn't know what she'd expected, but she thought the man that had 'loved' her for over two years should have been able to distinguish her from her doppelganger."

Stefan's brow furrowed, trying to figure out what she was saying. Both Damon and Elena could see understanding dawn on him as first surprise, then confusion, settled across his features. "Elena?" he whispered, "What are you doing here? We haven't seen you since…"

"That night 10 years ago. I know, Stefan, I was there," Elena finished rudely, "It's been a long time, Stefan. Can't say I expected seeing your face again, either."

Brow still furrowed, Stefan once again tried to figure out what was wrong with her. He had always been able to tell when she was Katherine, but something was off. She was acting like Katherine, not Elena. "You flipped the switch, didn't you?" he asked, sorrow falling across his face. At Elena's tiny grin, he shook his head slowly, refusing to believe that she had turned off the one thing that made her Elena. "It's because of that night, isn't it? Elena, I know it hurt you, but this isn't how you should've dealt with it!"

"Thanks for your input, Stefan," Elena retorted sarcastically, "But I've been doing fine for ten years without anyone telling me what I should and shouldn't do. And for the record, that night didn't hurt me, it destroyed me. So yes, I did need to turn my emotions off."

With that, Elena waltzed out of the room leaving a shocked Stefan and amused Damon in her wake. Damon shook off his amusement after a few minutes once Stefan started sulking about Elena. He headed up to his room, wondering where the doppelganger had gone.

* * *

After exploring the other rooms in the house to find them virtually untouched from the last she'd seen them, Elena turned the corner towards Damon's room, investigating it as if she had never seen it before. In all actuality, it _had_ been years since she'd last seen it. To her surprise, Damon was lounging on the bed, shirt unbuttoned, with a copy of Jack London's _Into the Wild_, and she vaguely remembered it being his favorite book when Bonnie had deactivated the Gilbert device. She waltzed into the room and hopped on the bed beside him, leaning against him. Elena could see he was irritated that she'd interrupted him, but he was trying (and failing) to keep up the façade that he hadn't even noticed her.

"I'm bored," Elena stated, hoping he would find something to entertain her. He was the only person within 100 miles of the stupid town that could stand her, and he'd been in his room for hours reading. And frankly, there wasn't much to do in the boarding house that she hadn't already done.

Damon didn't even give her a glance. "And?"

"And let's do something," Elena suggested, already knowing what he was going to say, but she'd come up with some ideas on her own.

Damon finally looked up from his book to look at her with discontent. "And what would Princess Elena like me to entertain her with?"

Elena smirked as she slowly brought her hand up to caress his chest. "I have a few ideas," she whispered seductively in his ear, pressing a light kiss in the hollow behind it and then leaning down to place another kiss on his neck. Grinning as he growled lowly, she began to move her body on top of his when she was suddenly thrown off of the bed against the wall. Damon was right back where he had been, reading his stupid book with a small smirk gracing his lips.

"We are _so _not doing this, Elena."

Elena huffed loudly, returning to lay on the bed, but this time crossing her arms in anger. "Why not? It's fun! I like fun, and I know you do, too." She turned her head toward him as she examined his reaction.

"Because, Elena, this isn't you."

Elena jerked her body up, exasperated with that stupid excuse he'd been using for _everything _the past few days. "Enough with the "_this isn't you_" self-righteous bullshit, Damon! This _is _me now. No more broody and moody crap. Anyways, I'm much more fun than I was years ago. You know why? Because I have nothing to lose, and nothing to prove," she argued, but then dropped her voice to a low whisper as she grabbed his book and laid it at the end of the bed, trying to seduce him again. "Plus, I have no reason not to do this…"

She pulled herself up to his eye level to kiss his lips, lightly running her tongue along the length of them. "And this…" she said as she straddled his hips, leaving a trail of kisses down his sculpted chest. "and this…" she growled quietly, bringing her hands down to unbutton his pants. Damon had yet to respond to any of her ministrations, but he finally gazed into her eyes, bringing his hand up to cup her neck. Expecting him to give in, she was shocked when he shoved her back to her side of the bed.

"No, Elena." He hissed through his teeth finally getting off of the bed to walk into his monstrous bathroom. Damon grabbed a bar of soap to wash his hands, as if her touch had given him a disease.

"Why the hell not, Damon? Sex is sex. Nothing more," Elena yelled at him, pulling herself up to sit cross-legged on the king-sized bed. Damon spun on his heel with a furious expression.

"But it _is _more, Elena!" he argued angrily. She could tell that she'd struck a nerve, but she didn't care. He, however, wasn't done—his face suddenly hardening into an unreadable expression. "Plus, if I wanted to sleep with Katherine, I'd just go sleep with Katherine—not this cheap clone of her that you've created."

Rising off of the bed, Elena glanced at him, muttering quietly, "Huh. Well screw you, too." She began to walk back out of the room, defeat riddling her body language.

"What, did I hurt the big-bad-Elena's feelings?" Damon asked, feigning a look reminiscent of a child's remorse when forced to say sorry to an enemy. Elena's irritation grew to menacing levels as she found herself less than an inch from his face.

"Hah! You wish," Elena laughed as her irritation bubbled to the surface, "No. All you've managed to do is piss me off, Damon. And you know how volatile I get when I'm angry."

She turned back and headed for the door again when he grabbed her arm. Elena's head turned towards his as he gritted out a threat. "You're not going to hurt anyone, Elena."

Shifting herself towards him again, she threw back an even stronger threat. "No. I'm going to go to the grill because I'm mad," she countered as her competitiveness made itself apparent, "and I'm hungry. Anyone that I kill is on your hands, Damon."

With that, Elena was gone. Damon growled, taking his book and throwing it against the wall in fury. Quickly buttoning his shirt up, he grabbed his leather jacket and headed out the door—hell-bent on saving Mystic Falls from Elena's reign of terror.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for not updating last week, but life got in the way like it always seems to do! Anyways, I really hope you liked this chapter, and that you'll leave a review-even if its just a quick "good chapter" or "I like it" (or even critique! I'm a big girl; I can take it!). It really helps me get inspired, and I don't want to be one of those people that's begging and stalking people for reviews, but if you favorite or follow the story I would love to hear why you thought it was good enough to come back to! Feedback is love people, so read and review!

-Kiki :)

Ps: When I started this story, I totally guessed the ending of the last episode-but I didn't think they were actually going to go through with it (I won't say what "it" is in case you haven't seen episode 14!). But I'm pretty sure I'm going a different way than the show is, so hopefully I can keep you guys on your toes! Or maybe I'm going the exact same way as the show, and you can just call me psychic when this is all over! ;)

_Quote: Damon Salvatore, Season 2 Episode 16, "The House Guest"_


	4. Fear and Faults

_"When you lose someone, it stays with you. Always reminding you of how easy it is to get hurt."_

Damon walked into the Grille, determined to find Elena before she did something she wouldn't regret. The fact that he had to be a moral compass for her made him sick, but he knew that if and when she got her emotions back, she would appreciate the fact that he had reigned her in—she already had ten years of guilt piled up on her conscience; she didn't need any more.

She was exactly where he'd expected her to be. Perched up on a bar stool, she'd made herself at home with a tumbler full of what he assumed was scotch (what could he say? She'd adopted his good taste in liquor) and a young man that Damon had seen walking around town a few times. Elena was laughing as if she found what the man said funny, but Damon could tell that she was searching for something else. He lumbered over to the bar, sliding into the seat next to Elena and quickly asking the bartender for bourbon.

Elena turned to face Damon, an outwardly friendly but secretly threatening smile painted on her face. "How nice of you to join us," she stated, "This is Nathan. He's been telling me all about himself."

Damon forced a smile towards Elena and the Nathan-guy, trying to act friendly while sending Elena the message that she wasn't going to hurt Nathan—he wouldn't let her. "That's great," he stated, covering up his worry with apathy and boredom as Elena seemed to do constantly now, "How long are you going to be, Elena?"

Elena sensed that Damon clearly wasn't in the mood to joke around, so she rid her face of the previous smile and continued on as if Damon hadn't spoken. "He goes to Whitmore College. You know, where Creepy Professor Shane works? Remember that party we went to? You went as Jack the Ripper, and I went as a lowly prostitute," Elena smirked, slowly dragging her finger down his chest over his shirt, "We had so much fun that night, and then Buzz-kill Bonnie came and ruined it all."

Damon nodded his head solemnly, remembering the time when Elena was Elena. When she had emotions, and guilt, and was not this Katherine-esq creature. "I remember, Elena. Now can we go?"

"But you just got here, Damon!" Elena feigned excitement, "and I want to get to know Nathan a little better. Maybe we could even relive that party—I'm sure Nathan wouldn't mind."

The hidden threat behind Elena's suggestion wasn't lost on him, and Damon knew that he needed to get her away from all of these people before he had to bury the first body of many that he expected would be turning up while Elena was in town. Damon rolled his eyes, quickly disagreeing with Elena's 'great' idea. Nathan had stayed relatively quiet throughout this argument, watching in confusion as Damon and Elena went at each other's throats with threats and promises. Suddenly, however, Nathan spun his head towards Damon.

"Wait! Damon Salvatore?" he asked enthusiastically after hearing Damon's name in conversation for the first time, "I _thought_ I recognized you! I remember where from now! You were always hanging out with Sheriff Forbes, right? Weren't you like her assistant sheriff, or something?"

The idiot had no clue what he was talking about, and yet Damon had a bad feeling about where this was going, but he decided to humor the man. "Yeah, I was her friend and colleague. What about it?"

Nathan's enthusiasm died as he adopted a serious expression. "I was wondering if you ever figured out how she was murdered? I just... I knew her when I was a kid, and I just figured you might know someone since you're, like, Interim Sheriff, right?"

Damon knew he should have stopped this before it went too far. He hadn't told Elena anything past the fact that she'd died, and he hadn't planned to until she was back to normal. Sure enough, the shock and confusion was evident on her face.

"Um, no," Damon answered, trying to keep a cool head as he could see Elena physically about to attack out of the corner of his eye, "we aren't even sure she was murdered. The police haven't released the report yet."

Nathan looked disappointed. "Oh, well if you hear anything, can you tell me? I just moved off of campus and into town again, but I'll go back if there's something weird out there."

Damon knew the human didn't understand the irony of his statement when he asked for information, but after a swift nod Damon turned to confront the fuming vampire beside him. He could already tell that he'd be lucky to see tomorrow after what an angry Elena would do to him, let alone be alive long enough to find out who had killed Liz and tell the tipsy, brainless human boy sitting at the bar.

"You know what? I think it _is_ about time we leave, Damon. It was nice meeting you Nathan, maybe we can have drinks again. But for now, you won't remember any of this. Do you understand?" she swiftly compelled him, and after his dull nod she headed towards the exit with Damon in tow.

Damon followed Elena out of the Grille, cursing the idiot who had brought up the investigation into Liz's death. They headed towards the alley next to the grille, and as soon as they were in deep he found himself pinned to the wall by his throat. Elena had gotten strong over the past ten years, and he really didn't want to think about how many people she would have had to kill to be able to keep him still. "What aren't you telling me, Damon?" she asked him, attempting to keep her voice steady. She should have listened to her instincts before she left New York—they'd been screaming at her to walk away even then, and she hadn't listened to them.

A shadow crossed Damon's face before he spoke. "I've told you everything I know, Elena."

"No you haven't," she accused, "I can see it in your eyes. You know something else, so tell me."

Damon tried to keep up the façade but was failing horribly. "Elena, I know as much as you do. I promise."

As soon as he muttered the promise, she was sure that he was hiding something from her. She let go of Damon's neck slowly, irritation and a bit of fear beginning to pump through her system as she continued her interrogation. "How did Liz die, Damon?" she questioned, and when he looked at the ground she growled the question again, emphasizing each and every word, "Damon, _how did Liz die_?"

She could see the fight leave his body, but the tension was still hanging heavily in the air. "Someone ripped her heart out, Elena. But we don't know who," he said slowly, emphasizing the last sentence. But Elena didn't believe it for a second as her irritation began to grow. With a quick flash, she threw him further into the alley, watching in anger as he landed on his back against the wall.

"You always were a terrible liar, but this is just pathetic," Elena hissed angrily. This was the closest she'd come to true emotion in years, and she wasn't enjoying it, "Who killed her, Damon?"

Damon's face fell as he gazed into her eyes. He began to turn away from her, slowly assuring her, "Elena, you don't want to hear this…"

Elena sped around to come face to face with him once again. Her eyes narrowed, and she let out a low threat, "Don't tell me what I do and don't want to hear, Damon. I want to know who killed her, and clearly you know something—or at least have a guess. So tell me what you know or I'm leaving Mystic Falls and never coming back."

Damon slowly stood up and began walking towards her, and she knew that what he was going to say she didn't want to hear. The serious look on his face scared her to death, irony that she couldn't comprehend at the current moment, as her worry and fear began to grow exponentially with every step he took towards her. Elena watched as he finally gave up on keeping the secret he'd held for days since he'd found her. "We don't know anything for sure, Elena. It's just a hunch."

"_Who was it?" _

Damon stared at the ground, not sure whether he should tell her the truth or not. He had wanted her to turn her emotions back on, but he was fairly certain that if he told her the truth she would break—and he didn't think he'd be able to fix her this time. Finally he decided to go all in, hoping that any emotional breakthrough would eventually be good for her, or that it might turn up some much-needed information about the supposed killer.

"We think the thing that killed Liz was the same thing that killed Jeremy ten years ago," he let out in one sentence after a long pause, not knowing whether she could handle the truth. As soon as he said it, he could see the fear wrack her body, tension appearing in every limb and every muscle she possessed. He reached out to comfort her, but she quickly jerked her arm away.

"That's impossible…" Elena whispered under her breath. Her eyes glazed over with fear as she recalled that fateful night, and she automatically felt her fight or flight instinct kicking in. Elena's eyes lost focus, her limp form falling to the ground as she tried to reason with herself—assuring herself that it couldn't be true. Vaguely feeling arms curl around her body to keep her steady, she began to hyperventilate and she felt like an earthquake was shaking her entire frame. Years… She'd been hiding—running—for years, and now he was back. The figment of her nightmares had possibly returned to Mystic Falls, and she now vowed that she wouldn't be there to see anything he was willing to do to her. She tried standing to run—from the town, from the memories, from the death and despair—but only succeeded in staggering backwards until her back hit the wall of the alley, her world spinning on its side. One of her hands moved to hold her forehead while the other grasped at her chest, as if somehow that would keep her from falling apart.

"I-I'm leaving. I never should have come here," Elena muttered, her voice shaking as much as her body was, "I knew better. I left ten years ago for a reason, and I shouldn't have come back."

"Elena, no!" Damon tried to reason with her, "I'm here! Stefan and Caroline, Tyler and Bonnie, we're all still here—and they may be frustrated with you now, but you know they'd still give up anything to save you."

Elena's eyes flicked back up to meet his as her voice rose in pitch out of fear. "Nothing can save me, Damon! If he's back, we're all dead! Oh god, I shouldn't have come back. This is all my fault, I knew this was a mistake! I'm going home," Elena gasped out as adrenaline and fear filled every nerve and cell she possessed. She tried to speed towards the mouth of the alley, but Damon was in front of her grasping her shoulders in an unbreakable hold before she could get very far. Tears of fear were streaming down her face, and as Damon looked into her eyes he knew that she was on the verge of losing her sanity—and regaining her emotions. But based on her reaction without emotions, he knew that he didn't want to see it with emotions. He'd never seen her this terrified—even with thousand year old vampires, doppelgangers, and ancient curses—and he found himself scared that her reaction was completely warranted, just as Katherine's and Rose's reactions to Klaus had been.

Attempting to focus her energy, Damon spoke slowly and surely, hoping that it would calm her down. "None of this is your fault, Elena! I'm not going to let you leave just because you're scared," Damon claimed, and a sense of accusation came over the terrified girl in his arms—leaving him confused and worried. He slowly released her arms, relatively sure that she was planning to stay at least long enough for him to grab her again if necessary.

"Not my fault?" Elena hissed, "Clearly you never learned the truth about the night Jeremy died, Damon."

Confusion continued to riddle his brain as he timidly questioned her, "What _is_ the truth, Elena?"

He watched as her face took on the blank expression he'd come to despise, but the words that left her mouth next shocked him to the core.

"I killed him, Damon. I killed my brother."

* * *

A/N: Okay, we're getting into some of the crazy stuff! I hope you all liked this chapter, and I would love to hear what you think! Even if it's just a short "good" or "nice", I'd still love to hear from you! Remember, feedback is love people, so read and review!

-Kiki :)

ps: Oh my gosh, Episode 15 was freaking heart-wrenching! I was in tears for hours when Elena broke down and it was sooo good! Definitely one of the best episodes of the season-and possibly the best episode in the show's history!

_Quote: Elena Gilbert, Season 1 Episode 2, "Night of the Comet"_


	5. Falling Apart

"_If I let myself care, all I feel is pain."_

Damon stood in shock. She had killed Jeremy? There was absolutely no way. Knowing Elena, he figured that she felt guilty for his death—even if she hadn't directly caused it. That was the way she worked: someone got hurt because she was the doppelganger, and Elena would blame herself for killing them. But why would Elena 2.0 say that? Was it possible that Elena had really killed Jeremy? In the moments he used to ponder this, he stopped paying attention to the frantic girl in front of him. Before his assumption could be confirmed, Elena was gone, speeding off into the dark away from him.

"Damn it!" he cursed, knowing that his momentary distraction had caused him to lose her again, and also knowing that it would be a lot harder to find her a second time. But he knew how important it was to find her—clearly she was losing it, terrified to a state of sheer panic that could cause her to kill everyone in town, pushing her humanity to the point of no return.

He tried to smell her as he sped off in the direction she'd departed, but as he got further away from the grille her scent dwindled until he was left in the middle of the forest with no lead—and no hope.

Unless… Unless she'd gone back to the one place she had called home—the very source of her nightmares and of her fear.

* * *

Elena had taken her chance when Damon was distracted, immediately leaving him and racing off into the night. Her mind was cluttered with fear—fear of death, of emotion, of memory. She had always known that he was still alive, but she had never imagined that the man that destroyed her life would come back. What else could he possibly take from her? She could feel herself shutting down as the last strand of control she had over her emotions began to unravel. This town had destroyed her once, and here she was again being torn apart by the very place she'd once called home.

Unable to continue running through the sheer panic, Elena slowed to a lumbering walk, stumbling through the forest and blindly reaching out for items to steady herself. She could barely see through the fear, her normally vampire-heightened emotion dulled by her newfound knowledge of Damon's purpose for bringing her here. She tripped over branches and vines, and was fairly certain that she'd hit at least one tree as she lurched over the rough terrain.

How could he not have told her about Liz? He _had_ to have known that she couldn't have come back with that _thing_ in town. But then again, that was probably _exactly _why he hadn't told her. As soon as he'd seen her with her emotions turned off he had wanted her to flip the switch again. What better way to do that than to drop the bomb that the reason her brother died was back in town? She was going to kill that sick son of a bitch for not telling her the truth—if she survived this, that is. Her emotions had already been on a tentative ledge, and Damon's new information threatened to destroy everything.

Warring internally with herself didn't last long as the fear set in at an all new level. Her blood was pumping so hard that she felt like her heart was going to explode; she heard it pumping in her ears so loud that any sounds of the forest were completely negated by her frantic blood forcing life through her dead veins. The longer she hyperventilated the more she thought her lungs would explode, as well. The shaking had magnified to a nearly unimaginable level, and she collapsed to her knees—her breaths coming in jagged gasps. She had lost any sense of the world around her, completely unaware of her surroundings. Elena grasped her stomach as if that action would keep her from falling apart as she came closer to the precipice of her emotions.

Thoughts of her brother had been strictly off limits since she'd left Mystic Falls—which in turn meant that the Salvatores, her friends, and anything else related to Virginia had not entered her mind since she'd left, as well. Elena had promptly turned off her emotions as soon as she'd lit the match on her old life, making it fairly easy to avoid any and all thoughts about the pain her little home town had caused her. She'd also been able to forget her role in the death of nearly every family member she'd had—guilt being the one thing that had crippled her that night and was threatening to detonate again, crushing her heart and soul in the process of flipping the switch on everything she'd blocked out.

"No!" she screamed into the night, no longer thinking about the worried vampire surely hunting her down right now. "This can't... it can't be happening. I can't-I…" Elena gasped through shuddering teeth, unable to form a complete sentence. Her entire world was crumbling down around her, feeling as if she were in an earthquake—and it was easy to imagine that from the extreme tremors rumbling through her body. Tears were streaming from her eyes, so she squeezed them shut, hoping to fend off the humanity that was fighting to come back.

Elena had imagined what it would feel like to turn her emotions back on for the past decade. She had thought of every gruesome detail, trying to figure out how she'd react when it inevitably happened. Maybe the memories would slam into her so hard that she'd collapse. Or perhaps she'd feel like she was drowning all over again. But this… being in the moment, she knew now that it would be so much worse than anything she'd ever imagined. She had gotten to the point that it felt like her body was refusing air. Any senses were barely functioning, the fear and pain pushing through everything so that all she saw was her biggest nightmare, all she heard was his voice—she could even smell the sweat and blood that she remembered so perfectly from that night ten years ago.

Her hands moved up from her stomach to grab her head, squeezing so hard that she felt like her head would break open—as though it would stop the onslaught of her human features fighting to regain entrance to her mind. Though her emotions had yet to come, the memories came crashing into her like a maverick—wave after wave leaving her in a heap on the ground. It felt as if a hand was grasping her entire body like a vice, and all she could think was _'Make it stop! Oh god, please make it stop! It hurts!'_

Elena's eyes had been squeezed shut for what seemed like an eternity, and she finally opened them as she begged for the pain to stop. It took her a moment to regain any sense of sight, but she finally saw the dark outline of something she had hoped to never see again. The shell of her old home came into her vision, and everything seemed to stop. She didn't breathe; she didn't shake; she didn't think. She couldn't accept the charred remains of her childhood home as they presented themselves to her in full technicolor. Her subconscious apparently had a twisted sense of humor, returning her to the one place that would tear down the walls she'd built around her heart—or perhaps her humanity had simply been shoved aside, and this was its way of fighting back against her mind's demands to stay the hell away from her.

A small part of her mind sensed a pair of strong arms wrapping around her, but it was too late. Her mind had finally accepted the sight before her eyes, and she felt the moment that the final strand of her sanity broke. All of the emotions she'd kept bottled up for ten years, the guilt and pain from that night, crashed over her like a ten-ton truck. Her humanity was back, and everything she'd done that she'd ever regretted or mourned slammed back into her with a vengeance. Every person she'd ever killed, compelled, or manipulated came back to her. Without her emotions she would have said "Karma's a bitch", but she couldn't think of anything past the pain, fear, and guilt.

She had been right—this was so much worse than anything she had ever imagined. All of the times she'd been killed, tortured, or hurt couldn't even compare to the agony she was currently feeling. Her mind was shutting down, and she was unable to think past the emotional anguish that she hadn't felt in years. Her body began to follow her mind, blocking out any outside information and feeling. The slight vision she'd had earlier couldn't compare to the complete blindness she was experiencing now. She couldn't hear the assurances she knew Damon was probably muttering to her as he held her in his arms. She also couldn't feel Damon's arms, but she was certain that even if she could she would find no comfort, anyways. The muscles she had tensed for what seemed like hours finally relaxed, and she felt herself falling towards the earth in slow motion.

Thankfully, she blacked out soon after, all of her senses finally dulled as she sank into the sweet nothingness of unconsciousness.

* * *

Damon heard her before he found her. The screams of anguish that came from her mouth echoed through the trees, and he sped even faster towards her home. He had figured that he'd find her at her old house—it was the only other place she had ever had a true attachment to. But as she screamed in emotional pain, he began to question bringing her back to Mystic Falls in the first place. If she was in this much pain, was it truly worth it for her to turn her emotions back on?

He burst through the trees and was across the street in the blink of an eye, in the yard of Elena's old house before he could register that he was out of the woods. The similarities between this moment and the moment ten years ago that he had found Jeremy dead were eerie, almost making him stop in his tracks before he realized that Elena needed him to be strong for her. She was kneeling on the front walkway, and as he got closer to her he could see how bad-off she was. Elena's body was trembling so hard that he almost questioned whether she was having a seizure, and the painful-sounding cries made him want to destroy the man who had killed her brother. In his haste to find her, he'd barely managed to decode her words from earlier, deciding that the monster that had kidnapped her and Jeremy had killed him, and she blamed herself (as she always did) simply for being the doppelganger. But all thoughts of that night left his mind when he finally was standing next to her, immediately pulling her into his arms and hoping that she would find comfort in them.

Trying to make eye contact with her, he realized just how much this had destroyed her. Her eyes were unfocused and glazed over. She hadn't calmed at all since he'd tried to comfort her, and he now realized the extent of her tremors—and that she probably hadn't even sensed him through her pain. He tried to get her muscles to relax, but they were tensed so much that she could have had rigor mortis.

Elena's cries began to die down as they turned into whimpers. She was mumbling apologies through her tears, and when she wasn't apologizing she sounded like a broken record saying the word "no" over and over again. "Elena, I know it hurts. It's gonna be okay," Damon tried to say, but he knew it that it fell on deaf ears.

He held her for what seemed like hours as he tried to soothe her, but he knew that to her it must have felt like centuries. So when she finally went limp in his arms, he found himself thanking a god that he wasn't sure he even believed in. Damon slowly brought his hand up to wipe away the tears on her face, shifting the hair out of her eyes as he did so, but a quiet whimper from the broken woman in his arms made him pause. Instead of the peace that should have come over her with unconsciousness, she seemed even more tortured than she had before—except now she was unable to push out the pain as she had when she was awake.

Call it morbid curiosity or just plain nosiness, but Damon needed to know what Elena was imagining while in her comatose state. How could he fix something that he didn't understand? His fingertips were light as they drew a path from her tear-stained eyes to her temples. Just as he had with Rose, Sage, and Rebekah, he entered Elena's thoughts.

Immediately, he wished he hadn't.

* * *

A/N: WOAH. Emotions goin' crazy there! This chapter took a _really_ long time to get it so that it felt good, so I'd love to hear what you all have to say about it! The next chapter is what a lot of you have been asking about-we're finally going to see the night Jeremy was killed! So hope you "stay tuned" for that! Remember, feedback is love, people, so read and review! I love hearing your comments, reactions, and questions, and I will make sure to respond to every review!

-Kiki :)

_Quote: Stefan Salvatore, Season 3 Episode 14, "Dangerous Liaisons"_


	6. Away

"_Every __inch __of this __house __is filled with __memories __of the people __that I loved that have died. My mom, my dad, Jeremy and Jenna, Alaric, John-even John. They're all dead. Everyone is dead."_

Elena couldn't help but think that something was going to go wrong. She'd practically been trained to expect the worse since the night her parents died, but the foreboding that filled the house made her shudder. Pushing off the worry, she went back to stirring the spaghetti sauce—the only part of the meal Jeremy had allowed her to prepare, since her cooking skills were pretty much non-existent. Family dinners like this had become a couple's affair made up of the tiny Gilbert family. Normally Elena would invite the girls or Matt over to join if simply to make it less somber, but they'd been busy with their own problems and Elena hadn't pushed them to come. She knew that Damon or Stefan would have come the minute she asked, but it seemed wrong to invite the corners of her love triangle to the family dinner—which was exactly why she'd told Damon to come over later that night.

She glanced over, watching Jeremy mill around the kitchen as he focused on finishing the meal he'd been too scared to put Elena in charge of. He turned around to grab a towel, catching her eye.

"Admiring the view?" Jeremy joked, a confused smirk gracing his face as he walked over to grab a colander from the cabinet.

Elena's eyebrows rose as she huffed out a laugh from her perch at the stove. "You're my brother, so no," she answered lightheartedly, pausing before she continued solemnly, "I wish we did this more often. I feel like I never really see you anymore, Jer."

A small smile spread across his face, but she could see the underlying sorrow of lost family members hiding in his eyes. "We're family, Elena. Just because we don't talk everyday doesn't change that," Jeremy promised, but a sly grin spread across his features, "and besides, I don't think I could handle your cooking more than once a month."

"Hey!" Elena laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder as their laughter filled the kitchen. The two siblings continued roaming around the kitchen, finishing the spaghetti and finally sitting down to eat.

"So," Jeremy started awkwardly, "How are things going with you and Damon?"

"Oh no, we are _not_ having boyfriend talk at the dinner table!" Elena gaped, "I didn't invite him for a reason!"

Jeremy gave his sister the all-knowing side eye, "Oh please, we both know that he's coming over in a few hours. And you suck at lying, Elena, so don't try to deny it."

Elena began to disagree when the doorbell rang. She slowly stood up and walked towards the door, turning her head to stick her tongue out at Jeremy. Grasping the handle, she turned the old doorknob and pulled the door open to reveal an elegant, middle aged man. His dark ruffled hair shifted with the wind outside, and his suit screamed wealth—but it was his face that captivated Elena the most when she turned to meet his eyes. Her jaw fell open as she fell into his trance-like stare.

"Hi," Elena whispered, barely hearing Jeremy asking who was at the door, her mind completely overrun by the mystery-man's stare.

The man held her gaze, quietly whispering instructions to her. "Don't be scared. You will invite me in. You won't move, and you won't speak. You'll do nothing but _obey_."

Suddenly, Jeremy was at her side, nearly jerking her out of the man's control, until she once again met his eyes."Can I help you?" Jeremy asked protectively, confused by Elena's reaction and not willing to risk their lives on an unknown man in their doorway.

"Ms. Gilbert was just about to invite me in," the man responded, his gaze drilling into Elena's mind until she found herself unable to disagree. She didn't know what he was, but he clearly knew that she was a vampire—and that an invitation from her would do nothing to allow him entrance to the house if he was a vampire, as well. But the longer she stared at him, the more she realized that he was something different—a vampire, but older, more powerful, and less controlled by the strangle-hold of rules confining normal vampires.

Jeremy's protective stance grew even stronger as he attempted to step in front of Elena, growling out a threatening, "I don't think so," at the same moment that Elena replied with a quiet invitation into the Gilbert home. The man tore his gaze from hers to meet Jeremy's with a smug look on his face. Jerked out of the trance with the loss of eye contact, Elena realized her mistake just as two things seemed to happen simultaneously that made her foreboding from earlier come to fruition.

First, the man leapt through the doorway, forcing her to watch helplessly as her brother crumpled into a heap on the ground. Then, the man met her eyes again and, without laying a hand on her, she felt darkness descend over her mind—but not before a petrifying name came to her lips.

_Silas._

* * *

Damon's shock jerked him out of Elena's mind as he realized why Elena had been so terrified when he'd told her about Liz's death. Silas? After they'd discovered that the cure was a hoax to raise the ancient vampire, they'd gotten the hell out of dodge—and they hadn't heard from or of the bastard since. But apparently, they _had—_ten years ago on the night that Jeremy had been killed, but Elena left before they'd discovered this fact. Did that mean that Silas was back? If so, Elena had every right to be terrified. And if so, it probably hadn't been the best idea for Damon to force her to turn her emotions back on, forcing him to deal with an ancient vampire _and _an emotionally broken one.

Of course Elena would go from the torture of seeing her old life burned to the ground right into experiencing the torture of the night she lit the match—emotions or no, she knew how to pull off a guilty conscience. The second Damon had nudged Elena's mind, he'd been thrust into the worst night he'd experienced in his 175 or so years. Granted, he had no clue what had happened that night—he'd only briefly seen the outcome of it, and the pain that arose because of the actions taken in the Gilbert house that fateful night.

He knew he probably shouldn't go back into Elena's memories, but Damon needed to know what happened that night—and he figured Elena wouldn't be too willing to share the details when she woke back up. So with that, he pushed his way back into Elena's mind to get the whole story of the night their world virtually stopped spinning.

* * *

A low groan. Scuffled steps. Shuttered breaths. Elena slowly dragged herself out of the coma she'd been in for what seemed like hours, realizing the sources of these sounds. She was lying against the cabinets in the kitchen, seemingly uninjured—but she knew from experience that she wouldn't remain that way for long. From her perspective in the kitchen, she could see that Jeremy had been hog-tied to the post in the front room. He didn't seem to be hurt, but was unconscious and leaning heavily in the ropes securing him to the column. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a pair of boots pacing the living room, but was unable to see anything else above the table.

Recollecting her thoughts, she attempted to remember how they had gotten into this situation—and what this situation even was, for that matter. Startling enough, she was unable to recall anything past dinner, which was still sitting on the table and mostly untouched. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, but she couldn't seem to grasp any of the thousands of thoughts flying through her mind. They seemed to slip through her grasp, leaving her mentally dizzy and emotionally drained, and completely unable to think of any escape plan or mode of attack. The only thing she could think of was the cold fear running like ice through her veins, and the scant hope that Damon would show up like he'd planned to—and even that thought was tentative as she bordered on sheer madness.

Elena had no clue what was happening, and couldn't even begin to reason through it in her current state, but she soon realized that the faceless boots were headed in her direction. Her breathing escalated and she heard her heart beat faster and louder in her ears. Elena tried to pull herself up, but found that her body didn't want to move. She didn't know who this person was, but she didn't want to find out. Slowly, the person was revealed as he stepped into her view—and she was captured by his penetrating gaze, unknowingly for the second time that night. All thoughts of escape vacated her mind—along with her inability to hold on to any thoughts, because she had so few that it no longer mattered. She couldn't focus on anything.

Except for his eyes. Oh god, his eyes. This was the only exception to her thoughtlessness as her fear magnified. The man standing in front of her had no color but black in his eyes. It was as if his pupils had taken over, leaving Elena staring into some of the most demonic and terrifying eyes she'd ever witnessed. He had walked closer during the time she'd been staring at his face, and he was now crouching down in front of her. Closer to her face now, his stare halted the last thoughts and emotions that had flitted through her mind, leaving it numbingly blank.

"Hello, Ms. Gilbert," the man muttered, his voice thick with an accent she couldn't quite place, "I don't believe we've truly met yet—which is a shame, because you're part of the reason I'm free to walk the earth. I'm Silas."

Normally, she would've passed out with fear by this point. But in her current state, the name that should have struck fear into her simply washed over her mind. She had no reason to fear Silas; she could sense it as she looked deep into his dark eyes, he would not hurt her or Jeremy.

Someone, however, seemed to disagree. There was a loud gasp from behind Silas, and he spun on his heel to see Jeremy awake. As soon as he tore his gaze from Elena's, she could think for herself again—but unfortunately, her thoughts were even more slippery than they had been. Although her panicked emotions had returned, she could barely even grasp her surroundings mentally. Insanity seemed a very real possibility, and with a strange man taking advantage of her and Jeremy, a very scary and dangerous one.

"Ah, I see the young boy has awakened," Silas purred, taking steady steps toward Jeremy, "I must say, you tarnished my plans for your sister. I had planned to simply take her, but you've gotten in the way. But I'm nothing if not flexible; I can simply adjust them."

Using a weapon neither sibling had noticed, Silas's fist rammed the object into Jeremy's shoulder. A howl of pain ripped through his throat, jolting Elena back into reality temporarily. She still had barely a clue of her situation, but she recognized Jeremy's pain when she heard it and was immediately on her feet and rushing to save her brother.

Suddenly, Silas was in front of her again with both hands on her arms, a jolt of electricity running through her at his physical contact. Her mind blanked once again, and she could no longer remember what she was running to. Elena was ensnared in the ancient vampire's trance yet again, and with him this close she had no possibility of safety. But she felt safe in his grasp, even though his previous actions suggested anything other than safety.

"That's what I thought," he muttered with a soft shake of his head, "I debated letting your brother live, but it's obvious where your allegiances lie—and I need them to be with me. As I said, I have plans, and I need you unattached for them to work."

Despite his closeness, Elena felt a shock run through her at his words. Jeremy had to live. She couldn't go on without him. But Silas had other ideas—ideas where she would be left orphaned with absolutely no family left. That thought terrified her.

But what terrified her even more was the fact that she couldn't do anything about it. It was as if he was compelling her, but she'd been compelled before and it had felt different. Compulsion was like giving control over to the vampire using it. _This_, though, felt like she _had _no control, and Silas was giving her the only way to regain her sanity. That must explain why Elena had felt so crazy when he looked away, right?

Silas quickly noticed her mental confusion, and forced her to snap her attention back to him as he drilled out his instructions. "You need to kill him, Ms. Gilbert. Kill him where it will hurt most."

Elena's mind raced at this command as every instinct told her to run, but his eyes held hers and she felt the confidence she needed as she stepped towards her brother. Silas's gaze broke and her thoughts returned, but his command had been given—and Elena could no longer stop herself as her hand extended to kill the only family member she had left.

She found herself begging, pleading with Silas to stop her, to let her brother live. Despite the fact that her mind had gone haywire as soon as she was out of his view, that was the one thing she could focus on—her brother's life hanging in the balance. Tears began to stream down her face as her breath came in heavy gasps. Jeremy's eyes had widened to the point that she could see the individual blood vessels, but he seemed confident in the fact that Elena would be able to stop herself—that she would be able to fight through the compulsion to save her brother, and the only family member she had left.

Elena could only imagine the shock on his face when she thrust her hand through his ribcage, grasping the life-giving organ in her miniscule hands. Her eyes met his, and the pain and betrayal that shone through his pupils swept over her like a tidal wave. This was the end. The end of a life that hadn't been nearly long enough, and the end of any sanity that Elena had revived since her parents had died. Without Jeremy, there was no reason for her to live—but even that thought couldn't fight through the direct command that Silas had given her. Ripping her arm back, she felt the heavy muscle weighing in her palm, and she saw the blood flow halt in his body, the vivacious life dying in his face.

They always say that you see your life flash before your eyes as you die. Elena supposed it was true—after all, she'd died enough that she should probably have an opinion on that statement. But as she watched the life fade from his eyes, she became _him_. She saw him growing up, relived all of the hardships he'd faced throughout his short life, the pain he'd suffered—most of it was blood on her hands.

She tried to stop, to protect him from her, but she was a part of him and he a part of her. At no point in her life had she lived without him, and now he was gone—dying by her hands just as everyone before him had. And as she saw the last ember of life die, she knew that part of her was dying with him.

The next moments were blur. The image of Jeremy's face burned into her retinas, coloring everything she saw. Her hand released the heart, and she collapsed to the ground as she stared at the blood pooling around her. She had no clue how long she sat there as she gazed into the deep red coloring everything.

After sitting there a while, Elena barely felt herself stand, duly noting that Silas had exited the house. Without thinking, she walked over to the fireplace, grabbing a match and lighting the logs within. Then she was in the kitchen, turning the gas on the stove. Finally, she was outside on the grass of her front lawn, collapsing to her knees as she stared up at the haunted house she'd once called home.

A car drove up behind her after she'd been sitting there for a few minutes, and she vaguely heard a familiar voice asking why she was outside. A hand gently tried to turn her, but the owner realized she wasn't moving. Damon's concerned face came into her line of vision, and although she saw his lips moving she heard nothing. He followed her gaze to the front door, and his eyebrows furrowed.

Getting up he strode up the steps to the door, gasping at the carnage he witnessed as he stared in the doorway. His expression shifted from shock to fear to sorrow within seconds, but Elena was numb to all of it. When Silas had left, her mind fell into complete disarray at the lack of his presence and at the agonizing pain of her actions.

She watched as Damon began to turn around, but before he could an explosion rocked the foundation of the entire neighborhood. The force of the gas ignition had blown Damon back at least a hundred feet into the road, and if he hadn't been a vampire he'd have surely died. The house was decimated, and anything that had been left was quickly being eaten by the flames of the explosion.

Elena had been rooted to the spot until the explosion, which had thrown her back a few feet. Slowly regaining her awareness, she saw the remnants of her childhood home being eaten by flames. Her pain magnified to an unimaginable level, leaving her breathless and clutching at her chest. She should have saved him. She should have been strong enough to fight Silas, but she hadn't been and now Jeremy was dead.

There was only one option in her rattled mind, now, since she'd destroyed the best choice when she ripped Jeremy's heart out. She had to die. She deserved to die for what she'd done to her brother. She stared longingly into the flames, wishing that she'd been destroyed with her brother instead of leaving her alone on this godforsaken planet. But that would have been too merciful for what she'd done. For someone that preached about family and sticking together, she was pretty damned hypocritical. She had killed her brother—her last family member, the only person she had left.

She was alone. _She was completely and utterly alone._ And with that one unbearable thought, she took door number three. Elena flipped the switch, dashing any thoughts of suicide or martyrdom. Her mind was clearer than it had been all night, and as she watched Damon begin to regain consciousness, she sped into the night, away from everything. Away from her guilt. Away from her home.

Away from her life.

* * *

A/N: Okay, so there may be a bit of confusion here. First of all, I started this story before everything happened in 4x14 and 4x15, and I had no freaking clue they were going to kill Jeremy-meaning that when Silas was raised prior to this flashback, Jeremy didn't die and Elena obviously didn't get the cure (I'm not going to mess with the cure in this story, though, so let's just pretend Rebekah took it or something). Second of all, I know you're probably confused about the whole mind thing Elena felt around Silas-don't worry, we'll get to that in later chapters, I promise! If you're still confused, just PM me or leave it in a review and I'll try to explain my crazy thoughts!

Anyways, I hope you all liked this chapter! I know a lot of you really wanted to find out why Elena left, and I hope that this chapter lived up to your expectations-it took me such a long time for it to feel right! I'd love to hear what you thought of it, or what your predictions are for the rest of the story! Even if it's just a short "I liked it", every review makes me happy and I'll always respond to them-and they make me write faster, too! Feedback is love, people, so read and review!

-Kiki :)

ps: who is in love with this season? This week's episode was amazing! And I have no idea how I'm going to wait for the prom episode in two weeks!

_Quote: Elena Gilbert, Season 4 Episode 15, "Stand By Me"_


	7. Cookies and Crying

"_We need to do this, okay. Breathe, eat, sleep, wake up, and then do it all over again… until one day it's just not as hard anymore."_

The shock rushing through Damon's body destroyed his concentration, yanking him out of Elena's mind. Sitting there in the yard of Elena's old house, he could visualize the exact moment he'd driven up that night as if he were experiencing it again. Damon remembered pulling up to the curb, confusion marring his features as he found Elena kneeling in the middle of the yard. As soon as he had seen her face, however, that confusion grew extensively into concern and outright fear. In the two years that he'd known her, Damon had never seen that much torment burning in her eyes, and he'd had no clue why she was in such pain.

Damon remembered looking away from Elena to see the front door flung open, and he'd immediately stood up to investigate—finding his worst nightmare inside the door. He could smell blood and a hint of gas as he walked closer, and the pool of it was the first thing to come into his line of sight. Then, he saw the heart laying near the blood, and finally the body strapped to the column in the living room he'd begun to see as his second home. At first, all he saw was a body. But then, he registered the face of the dead boy—a boy that he had grown to love over the years, and a boy that explained Elena's comatose state in the front yard.

Before he could truly feel the pain of losing Jeremy, his body had been flung across the yard by an explosion, slamming him into the Camaro at full speed. Damon remembered regaining consciousness a few moments later after his head hit the car's metal frame, only to find Elena gone and her house up in flames.

Rewatching this moment through Elena had been nearly as painful as it had been that night, but Damon knew that his emotions were morphed by Elena's agony—after all, the pain had led her to turn off her emotions for over a decade. But Damon also couldn't say that Jeremy's death and Elena's subsequent disappearance hadn't destroyed him for months after the incident. He'd be lying if he didn't admit that he'd gone through his and the grille's entire liquor supply ten times over in that first year, and he'd also be lying if he said he hadn't forced Bonnie to search for Elena everyday for months and years.

But sitting here in this same fated place he'd held her years before, he knew that it had all been worth it—all of the searching and alcohol had led to this moment that Elena finally returned to him. Damon wasn't sure Elena would agree in her current state, but he didn't regret anything he'd had to do to get her back. He did, however, regret never getting this damn house bulldozed to the ground—it created too many painful memories for the entire group to still be standing in all its torched glory.

Damon had no clue how long he sat there, Elena wrapped in his arms as he stroked her hair, hoping that it was lending her some comfort in her dreams. At some point, Damon realized that he needed to get her home before she woke up, but also realized his predicament—the Camaro was still miles away at the grille after he'd chased Elena through the woods, and he couldn't carry her that far before she awoke. Pulling his phone out, he called Stefan and told him where they were, emphasizing the urgency in his voice.

Headlights rounded the corner of the street five minutes later, and Stefan pulled up to the curb quickly. Pulling Elena's body into his arms gently, he walked to the car as Stefan held the door open for him. Damon could see the questions zooming through his head before Stefan even voiced them, so he quickly put his fear to rest.

"She's alive, brother," Damon assured, the solemn tone in his voice making Stefan think otherwise. Stefan pulled away from the curb and began to drive to the boarding house, shooting his brother a concerned look that demanded answers. Damon looked out the window, watching as the charred ruins of Elena's house grew smaller and smaller, taking a deep breath before he explained what happened—leaving out the morbid details of the flashback he'd experienced with Elena through her memory.

"She turned her emotions back on?" Stefan exclaimed quietly, trying not to wake her from the back seat as he turned down the driveway towards the house. "How'd she handle it?"

"Well, seeing as though she's passed out in the back seat, how do you think she handled it?" Damon griped, the stress of the night beginning to weigh down on him. Who would have known that Damon would find Elena, babysit her, and watch her fall apart in three days after searching for 10 years to find her? Once they walked into the house, he laid her on the couch in the living room and took a seat on the ottoman next to her. Stefan sat down in a chair across the room, watching Damon quietly and waiting for him to speak. "She can't handle this, Stefan, and I don't know how to convince her that she can."

"She always gets through these things, Damon. She'll do it again—it just takes time."

Looking down at the floor, Damon shook his head slowly. "Not this time. You didn't see what happened—what she had to go through, it was…it was too much. Even for her; _especially_ for her," Damon whispered that last phrase, questioning his plan to bring her back yet again. Was it worth bringing her back so that the grief could eat her alive?

As if on cue, the brothers heard a quiet whimper echo through the room. Both of their eyes snapped to the poor girl in front of them, watching as her face twisted in pain. Damon immediately got onto his knees, bringing himself to Elena's eye level as she slowly forced her eyelids open, her breathing picking up speed and tears shining in her eyes. Languidly, her mind tried to make sense of the scene in front of her, when she was hit with a wave of fear and grief as she met the brothers' knowing gazes.

Damon reached out to hold her, but she reared her body back in pain as the emotions she hadn't felt in years pummeled their way into her mind. Before he could say anything, she was off the couch and speeding towards the front door, trying to escape the searing pain pushing its way through her psyche. Just as she flung the door open, it was slammed shut in her face and her wrist was pulled into an iron grip.

Both brothers had leaped into action as soon as she ran, Damon heading to shut the door as Stefan attempted to grab the panicked girl. Elena couldn't register either of the people around her, but she knew she had to get away from here. She had to get somewhere that she could think clearly so that she could turn the pain off again. Wrenching her hand away from her assailant and slamming her fist into the person who had shut the door, she spun around and headed for the back exit of the house, hoping she could outrun the brothers.

When she finally reached the exit, she opened the door again and began to run outside only to run into the brick wall of Damon's chest. His arms snaked around her, holding her in a solid vice that she couldn't hope to get out of. Just as she had the day Stefan had gotten trapped in the tomb, Elena began to pound against his chest, begging for him to let her go—pleading for the pain to stop. Neither knew how long they stood there until Elena's strength began to fade, giving way to the pure, unadulterated agony and grief he'd seen earlier.

Damon offered her no words, knowing that they wouldn't help her now. So he took her fists and her punches, knowing that it was the only way she could get her grief out at the moment. Eventually, her physical beating stopped, giving way to body-shaking sobs that ripped through her body as years of pent-up emotion pounded into her skull. Gathering her into his arms, they returned to the couch. Stefan had grabbed a glass of what he assumed was alcohol, and turned away from the fire to watch the couple walk into the room.

The room was silent except for Elena's sobs and the flickering of the flame in the fireplace, as the brothers sat in the silence of their thoughts. Elena's vice-like grip on Damon's shirt held him to her even tighter than he'd already been holding her, her tears soaking his shirt thoroughly as if he'd walked into a monsoon.

They sat like that for hours, holding each other as Elena's pain rang through the house. Stefan left the room after a while, unable to witness Elena experiencing the same pain he'd felt when he finally turned his emotions back on for the first time after turning. It brought back too many painful memories, and Damon couldn't blame him. Damon had never experienced this pain, having slowly gained back his emotions after flipping the switch instead of them all crashing down at once, but the misery on Elena's face told him that he should be thankful for that. He'd lied to Elena earlier when he said he'd never turned off his emotions—hoping that she'd explain what she felt to make it easier for him to force her emotions back on, but it made no difference since she'd managed feel again on her own.

Damon had no clue how long it took, but Elena's sobs eventually died down to whimpers, and then to quiet breaths as she fell asleep. The extreme emotions had exhausted her so much that they pulled her into a deep slumber, and Damon soon found that the weight of the day pulled him under with her in the sweet dream-world where they could pretend that everything was okay.

* * *

Damon's arms were empty when he woke up. Jerking himself into an upright position and shaking off the sleepiness, his panic began to set in. Fear ran through his head as he imagined all the things Elena's grief could have caused her to do—walk into the sun without a ring, step into the fireplace neither brother had remembered to extinguish the night before, decapitate herself by jumping off a cliff into a floor of jagged rocks—striking panic into his heart.

"Elena?" he yelled through the house, speeding upstairs in hope of finding her in his room. Nope. He then found himself at the front door, looking out and praying that he wouldn't find a giant scorch mark in the lawn where Elena had ended the pain. He never should have fallen asleep—and Damon was regretting it very much at this moment. Panic was racing through his veins as she tore through the house, looking in all of her favorite haunts: the basement, Damon's room, even Stefan's room. Desperation was rushing through him as he hoped that she was still breathing somewhere, even if she'd left and flipped the switch again, because she'd still be alive.

As Damon ran in search of Elena in the house, he suddenly heard someone whisper his name—the quiet urgency breaking through his panic-induced haze.

"Damon, she's in here," he heard from a voice he realized was Stefan's. Following the comment, he found himself standing next to Stefan in the doorway to the huge, virtually unused kitchen the boarding house flaunted. What he saw before him shocked him even more than finding Elena broken last night had. The kitchen was filled with the aroma of freshly baked cookies, but the chefs were what truly shocked him.

Elena and Caroline walked around the spacious room, grabbing ingredients and silently mixing them together, creating delicious delicacies Damon imagined belonged in a world-class bakery. Pachelbel's Canon in D was playing quietly through the speakers in the corner, and the curtains over the window were drawn to let rays of sun shine into the room and illuminate the girls—hiding the sorrow ruminating in the room. It was as if last night hadn't even happened, and the two were just getting ready for the next founder's day party.

"What the hell is going on?" Damon whispered, leaning towards Stefan to get a better view of the two bakers running around the kitchen. Neither Elena nor Caroline seemed to notice the brothers, but Damon knew that they'd heard him running around the kitchen—choosing to ignore him instead of calm his panic. From where Damon was standing, he could see Elena as she glanced at him from her place at the sink. The pain was written all over her face, and Damon could see that no amount of cookies would pull her out of the sea of agony she was in.

Stefan shook his head, "I have no clue. I woke up thirty minutes ago, and they'd already baked enough to feed a small African village."

"But why is Caroline here? She hasn't even left her house in days," Damon stated, the confusion evident in both brothers.

At the sound of her name, Caroline spun on her heels to meet the boys' eyes. The pain of her mother's death wasn't as evident on her face as it had been, but she was clearly still struggling as she fell out of the rhythm of baking, walking over to the brothers. She signaled for them to follow her into the hallway so that Elena couldn't hear over the mixer.

Stefan spoke first, voicing the question on both he and Damon's minds. "What's happening?"

Caroline smiled, traces of real happiness showing on her face, "We're healing. I don't know how, but I woke up at some ungodly hour this morning and knew that Elena needed help. So I came over."

"…and decided to open a bakery?" Damon joked, his eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Well you two idiots were asleep, and I found her crying out on the front porch so we came inside. Cookies sounded good, so I suggested we make some, and somehow it turned into all of this," Caroline explained, a look of sorrow streaking across her features, "You two never could have known, but when Elena gets this upset, she bakes. Not well, granted, but she tries. And sometimes it helps."

The brothers looked at the blonde in confusion again. "That's crazy," Damon huffed out, not understanding the reasoning.

"No, it's not. I swear I gained 20 pounds in the course of a week after Elena's parents died from all of the treats she baked. She's done it since she got an easy-bake oven—she gets upset, so she bakes. It's a good thing I can't gain weight anymore, because I have a feeling we're all going to be eating a lot of cookies over the next few days," Caroline stated, "It doesn't make sense, but it soothes her—and it's kind of helping me, too."

Damon and Stefan continued to stare at her, slowly realizing that there was no reasoning to the baking—even if it made no sense it helped and that was all that really mattered. "Look, I know you guys don't get it, but just… just let us be. She needs this, and she needs some girl time. I called Bonnie, but she didn't pick up, so you guys are just going to have to deal with me being here the next few days."

"Okay," Damon agreed, deciding that Caroline probably knew how to handle this Elena more than he or Stefan—Caroline had seen Elena after her parents died, so she had the experience to comfort her. "You're right. Do whatever she needs. I'll call Bonnie again, and try to get her over here."

Stefan spoke up next, this time focusing on Caroline. "It's not just Elena, though, is it? You need this too, don't you?"

Caroline's eyes glistened and she nodded her head slowly. "Yeah. Yeah I do. I'm hoping that helping her get better will help me, too," she replied. Elena called for Caroline in the kitchen, making the blonde spin back into action. "I've got to go. It's going to be a rough day, so we're gonna need all the comfort food we can get."

They watched as Caroline rounded the corner again, disappearing into the kitchen again as the clanging of cookie pans and metal bowls echoed through the hallway. Damon turned, shaking his head as he headed towards the bar in the parlor. He poured them each a glass of bourbon, and the brothers sat down in front of the dying embers they'd forgotten to put out the night before.

"The funeral's this afternoon," Stefan said plainly, not knowing what else to say after witnessing the heartbroken girls cooking in the kitchen, baking their tears and denial into the sweet treats.

Damon shook his head, also thinking about the situation they now found themselves in. Elena was destroyed after last night—he'd seen it in her face the second she'd turned to face him in the kitchen—and now had to deal with the pain of Liz's funeral, since he knew that she would never miss it now that she could feel for Caroline again. And Caroline had fallen back into her old ways, comforting Elena and knowing exactly what to do to help—something that neither brother could claim, as much as they wanted to.

After a while of thinking solemnly and listening to the girls cooking, Caroline came out and informed the boys that she would be getting ready for the funeral upstairs. Stefan decided to do the same, knowing that he would have to get there early with Caroline to take care of some last minute preparations, leaving Damon alone in the parlor.

He stood up, walking back into the kitchen and finding Elena still focused intently on the tenth batch of cookies they'd prepared that morning. She was mixing the ingredients to start another batch, apparently, and stirring vigorously as if the wooden spoon in her hands was the source of all of her problems. Damon walked over to her, realizing as he got closer that tears were silently streaming down her face and that she was struggling to catch her breath because her chest was constricted in pain.

"Elena," Damon whispered, trying to take the spoon out of her hand before she broke it and hurt herself. Instead of allowing him to grab the instrument, she wrenched it out of his grasp and began to grind the ingredients even more strongly, shaking her head quickly as she evaded his hands. "Elena, please, let me—" Damon pleaded, being cut off by the forceful, yet broken, sound of her voice.

"No, Damon!" she yelled, her sorrow echoing through the room, "Just… just don't, okay? Don't try to make this okay because it's not. It'll never be okay. _I _will never be okay."

Despite her struggles, Damon pulled her towards his chest, allowing her to weep into his chest. He reached his hand up to cup her head into the crook of his neck, stroking her hair softly as she cried. Moments later, he pulled her head away so that she could see him. He held her face in his hands, gazing deep into her eyes as he spoke slowly to her. "I know it hurts, Elena. And I know it feels like it'll never get better. But it will—you just have to fight through the pain. And I'll be there to help you every step of the way, okay?"

Elena looked at him accusingly, but finally nodded her head as she mumbled a quiet "okay". Damon smiled sadly as he drew her into a hug. "Good," He muttered into her hair, "Now let's forget about these cookies and go get ready, okay?"

"But they'll burn! And the extra dough will go bad," Elena retorted, unreasonable panic marking her features. Damon let out a small chuckle before responding.

"Elena, you already have enough cookies to feed an army. If you lose a few, it won't be the end of the world," Damon joked, "And as much as I don't think you should go to this funeral, I know you wouldn't skip it for the world if it meant your best friend had to go through it alone. Am I right?"

"I'd never leave Caroline alone in this," Elena responded, resolved to face the pain she'd surely feel today at seeing Caroline's mother in a coffin. He knew that she was completely broken inside, but the fact that she would still be there for her friends even when she wanted to crawl into a hole and die was amazing. It made him proud to know her—and it assured him that the real Elena was back, and Katherine 2.0 was gone for good.

"Okay, then let's go get ready. I'm not about to let you have your public debut to Mystic Falls's finest without looking smoking hot."

Damon joked as he wrapped his arm around Elena and lead them towards his room, assuming that Elena would write off his joke. He might have imagined it, but he could have sworn he heard the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard—Elena laughing quietly.

Maybe this wouldn't be so hard after all.

* * *

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Hopefully you got some of Damon's perspective this chapter, and that you're excited about Caroline being back! She's going to start taking a larger role in the story because I love Caroline and think she adds a lot to the story-and she's the perfect person to help Elena right now. Elena's going to be adjusting to being back, but consider this the beginning of the end because a lot of crap is going to start in the next few chapters and pull us all the way to the end of the story! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd love to hear what you thought about it! Remember, feedback is love, people, so read and review!

-Kiki :)

_Quote: Elena Gilbert, Season 2 Episode 22, "As I Lay Dying"_


	8. Beneath the Depths

_"Our actions are what set things in motion. But we have to live with that."_

Stefan, Elena, and Damon walked slowly through the front door of the boarding house, taking in the sheer calmness that followed the whirlwind of a day they'd just experienced. "I'm going to head upstairs," Elena muttered, unable to muster the energy to say it any louder but knowing that both brothers had heard her, anyways. Damon and Stefan stayed downstairs to grab a drink, but Damon promised that he'd be up soon. Elena laid her purse down on the front table, her emotional and mental exhaustion making it difficult for her to even walk. Thank god she knew the path to Damon's room by heart even after all these years.

The funeral had been beautifu, but Elena couldn't truly appreciate it because every time she looked up, she imagined it was Jeremy in the coffin during the funeral she'd missed—and ruined with a gas stove and fireplace, since there was no body. Her emotions had pounded into her mind for every word she heard, and she had been mute most of the afternoon from the sheer grief she had experienced. Thankfully, she'd managed to avoid pretty much everyone—only speaking to Damon, Stefan, and Caroline when she'd been able to. While emotionless Elena had been smart enough to buy waterproof mascara, Elena hadn't needed it because she'd been so smothered by her emotions that she hadn't been able to let them out. She'd been the only dry-eyed person in the chapel—even Damon had teared up, though he wouldn't have admitted it.

Elena had originally planned to take a quick shower, but found that she could barely stand by the time she walked through Damon's door. Since there was no way she'd be able to stand long enough, Elena headed towards Damon's huge tub, turning the knob to fill it with scalding hot water and dumping enough bubble bath into it to entertain a child for hours. Stripping out of her heels and dress quickly, she sank into the warm water, her hair draping over the side of the tub as she soaked in the heat. She'd felt eternally cold since turning her emotions back on, probably from shock, and the water sank into her bones to make her feel warmer than she had in years.

She could feel her eyes drooping shut as the strenuous day fell over her, exhaustion hitting her like a lead beam and lulling her to sleep. Elena felt the water pulling her into a deep sleep, and a small part of her thought about not drowning, but she was unconscious before the thought could spark action in her slow mind.

_Elena wrenched her eyes open, feeling an ache reverberating through her skull. It was dark and gloomy, making it nearly impossible for Elena to completely see anything in front of her. But slowly, the world came into focus as her worst nightmare was realized. She was underneath Wickery Bridge, locked into a stubborn seatbelt in a stubborn boy's stubborn car. Her hands shot to the seatbelts as soon as she realized where they were, hoping to get herself undone so that she could get Matt out safely-a task she didn't look forward to, since the quarterback was knocked out behind the wheel. One would think that Matt's truck would have faulty belts and weak glass, which would have made escape from the watery depths much easier. No, the ancient truck was tough, and would inevitably be the death of someone. Elena hoped it wasn't her or Matt._

_Deciding to switch tactics, she searched frantically through the glove compartment, wishing that she had forced all of her friends to keep a window-breaker in their car. Since her parents died, Elena had bought a surplus of them, hiding them in random places and cars, just in case she ever needed them again-but of course, after she and Matt had broken up, she'd never gotten around to putting one in_ his _car. And now it could be the reason for their deaths. _

_Immediately_,_ Elena's struggles_ _began to wane as the lack of oxygen affected her more and more. Tugging as hard as she could to save them, Elena almost didn't notice the body coming into view through the front window. Thinking it was Stefan, she glanced up to plead for help-but her limited breath caught in her throat as she recognized the person for who they truly were: Silas. Elena's hair halo-ed around her head as she jerked back to avoid the demon, watching as his mouth turned up into a horrifying sneer. Before she knew what was happening, Silas slammed his boot through the front window shield, the amused grin telling Elena one thing alone: he had no plans to save them. Then, she started screaming._

* * *

Damon came upstairs a while later after losing track of time, finding no Elena in his room. She'd come up her over a half hour before, and he'd figured that she had gone to bed, but it was empty. A spark of worry grew in his gut, but he soon found her when he heard a terrified scream come from the bathroom. He sped into the stone-walled room, finding Elena in the bathtub frantically trying to wrench herself out of the tub. Damon was at her side pulling her soaked body into his arms and away from the water, trying to calm the panicked girl. He wrapped a fluffy robe around her shaking body, hoping it would bring her some warmth.

"Elena!" he yelled, holding her tight as she struggled, tears streaming down her face and body trembling. Her hair was soaking wet, and Damon could only assume that she'd fallen asleep and slipped under the now-lukewarm water. He smoothed her dripping hair down, turning her tear stained face towards his. "Elena, love, what happened?"

She was shaking, curling as far into Damon's now soaked chest as she could, terror rushing through her veins. "It was him…" Elena mumbled, leaving Damon confused as ever, "Oh god, oh god… why?"

Still not understanding, Damon tried to catch her attention. But she was too panicked to focus on him, her eyes darting back and forth as she shook her head—seemingly trying to physically shake away whatever dream had caught her. "Elena, please talk to me," Damon begged, his eyes pleading with hers. After minutes of her shaking and his soothing, she finally began to calm.

"I…I was in t-the car with M-Matt," Elena whispered, sobs separating some of her words as the nightmare continued to shake her, "and Stefan w-was there, but he was S-Silas!"

"Shh, Elena, it was just a nightmare," Damon assured her, soothingly patting her hair that had dried slightly over the past few minutes. "I know it was scary, but it's over—it wasn't real."

Elena nodded her head, stuffing her face into his shirt again as another sob wracked her body. Damon stood up, carrying her bridal-style to the bed. He placed her gently between the sheets and climbed in next to her, ignoring their soaked clothes as he pulled Elena against his chest. Holding her in his arms, Damon stayed silent knowing from the past few days that she was so far gone that no words would help.

So they just laid there, holding each other until they both fell asleep from the mental and emotional exhaustion of the past few days.

* * *

"Hey, I'm leaving for the party in an hour. Are you coming?" Stefan yelled from the top of the stairs. It had been a week since the funeral, and Elena was cleaning up the mess from cookies she and Caroline had been baking all week. People who ate away their pain had nothing on the two friends, since any cookies they'd made were eaten almost as soon as they came out of the oven—one reason that being vampires was a good thing. Damon and Stefan had managed to snag a few of the baked goods before they were devoured, but they had mostly stayed out of the kitchen to let the girls catch up with each other.

"Nope, Elena and I are going to enjoy the silence once you get your loud mouth out of here," Damon yelled back, his joking tone bringing a small smile to Elena's face. God, he'd never get over seeing that. Over the week, she'd gotten more used to her emotions, and since she'd barely left the house in days they'd been able to keep them down for the most part since there wasn't much to cause a breakdown in the house that she hadn't already gotten upset over.

Suddenly, Elena turned around, grabbing Damon's attention as he pretended that he'd just noticed her. From the look on her face, he'd failed—but that wasn't what she'd stopped for. "Wait, what party?" Elena questioned, curiosity filling her face.

"Just some dumb Founder's Council meeting disguised as a party. Somehow Stefan got wrangled into planning it, since I was too 'broken-hearted' to do it," Damon answered, and Elena knew that by 'broken-hearted' he meant that he was keeping his girl friend from having _her_ heart broken—at least, she assumed she was his girlfriend. When she'd flipped her emotions back on, they just sort-of fallen back into each other as if the last 10 years never happened—and she wished they hadn't happened, but she was glad that Damon hadn't asked any questions.

Ever since the episode in the bath tub, she'd been plagued by nightmares at night, forcing her to relive each kill she'd enjoyed over the past decade. Every single dream ended the same, though—with some callback to the man that had destroyed everything: Silas. Damon would wake her up and hold her as the guilt, pain, and fear brought tears to her eyes and sobs to her throat. She had never been so thankful for Damon in the 12 years she'd known him because there was no way she'd be able to get through this on her own—and now she wanted to see how far she'd gotten with his help through the past few days.

"Let's go," Elena suggested, "I mean, I don't have a dress, but I can borrow one from Caroline. We might be a little late, but I don't think anyone would notice—it's not like I've been to anything in ten years, so they won't be expecting us. I just have to get my hair done and—"

"Woah there, Tiger," Damon joked, "we can go, but I figured you wouldn't want to. After all, you haven't left the kitchen for more than 10 minutes in the past week."

Elena walked over, slipping her arms through his to look up into his eyes. "I have to get back to real life sometime. Well, as real as Mystic Falls can get—it's probably the most clichéd horror-movie town I've ever been to," Elena chuckled, but Damon could see the fear in her eyes, and knew that it would be extremely hard for her to keep it together if they went to this dumb party. As much as he knew she was itching to get out of the house, he didn't want her to have another breakdown because of a bunch of idiot council-members.

"Are you sure? We don't have to get back to real life just yet—I like having fresh baked cookies every day," Damon smirked, but quickly realized that Elena was serious about going. When he'd told her that she'd get past this a week ago, he never imagined that it would be this quickly that she'd start finding herself again. But over the past few days, she'd begun to gain back some of her quirks that he had missed so dearly since she left. Her stubbornness wasn't as strong as it had been, but each day that they'd fought over the sink he'd seen her slowly regaining confidence. But the nightmares hadn't stopped—and Damon still woke up every night to her screams as she remembered the people she'd killed over the decade that he hadn't been able to protect her from.

"Now's as good a time as any. Besides, I kind of want to see some of the people again—maybe Bonnie will even be there," Elena hoped, since they still hadn't been able to contact her in the week. She'd been at the funeral, but Elena hadn't been able to talk to her—but not for lack of trying. Bonnie seemed to run as soon as Elena got anywhere near her, but Elena assumed she was just overreacting and that Bonnie just never noticed that she was there. Somehow Elena had gone relatively unnoticed by the townspeople, which was how she'd wanted to keep it up until now that she was feeling more in control of her emotions.

Damon looked skeptically at her, and Elena knew that he was worried about pushing her too far. "Damon," she said, her voice assuring him as she reached up to stroke his cheek, "I can do this. It'll be hard, but I'll have to do it eventually—I can't stay locked away for the rest of eternity. And besides, I'll have you there by my side the entire time."

"Okay, we'll go. You better call Blondie quick, though, because knowing her she's already there to overrun any plans Stefan made."

Elena graced him with a small smile, but just as she was about to run upstairs a look of horror crossed her face. Damon immediately tensed, prepared to fight or comfort her—whatever was necessary—but was unprepared for her outburst. "Oh my god!" she screamed, "I never called Elizabeth back!"

"Elizabeth?" Damon asked, confusion marring his gorgeous features.

"My secretary! Oh god, Damon I have a job!" she stated the obvious, "A job that I haven't even contacted in two weeks! I never even told them I was leaving."

She ran to her bag, her phone in her hand instantly as she dialed the number she'd had memorized for years. "Elizabeth? Yeah it's me. I'm…"

Damon heard murmuring on the other end of the phone, but surmised that it was a bit louder than a murmur by the look on Elena's face. Apparently, she had finally realized there was a world outside of the house and her head, which Damon was thankful for. But he was terrified that this stress would cause her to break down again after all the progress she had made. Every few moments Elena shook her head and mumbled a small "mm-hmm", but other than that, it was mostly a one-sided conversation.

"Of course, I understand completely. I hope we meet again Mr. Evans," Elena muttered into the phone, hanging up and slamming it onto the table so hard that the screen cracked into a spiderweb of glass. Damon was afraid that his fears had come to fruition when Elena turned around with tears in her eyes, but they were accompanied with a smile, so he was reassured as she ran into his arms.

"Wait, you're happy?" Damon asked, wonder-struck by the range of emotions on her face.

"Hell yes!" Elena exclaimed, "I hated that job so much. I was never meant to be a publisher—I always wanted to be a writer. It was horrible. And my boss was a complete bastard. I have no clue why I stayed there for so long!" But Elena knew exactly why she'd stayed there. Emotionless Elena had only been focused on getting what she wanted, and she'd wanted power—power that came with being the lead publisher of one of the largest publishing companies in the world. The thought of her old life made her shudder.

Damon's confusion stayed, but he was so happy that she seemed content that he didn't even care for any more answers. "Don't you need to go get ready?" Damon asked jokingly, laughing as she perked up even more and ran to call Caroline and get ready. He followed her shortly after, enjoying the view as she sped around the room with curling irons and make-up. When Caroline showed up, the hilarity grew even more as they both fussed about getting ready, but he couldn't stay long since Caroline kicked him out as soon as he tried to get ready.

"You're so going to regret this," Stefan joked as he got ready to leave, adjusting his tie in the mirror.

Damon leaned against the wall with a tumbler of bourbon in his hand—reminding himself to refill his stock, since Elena had taken up drinking as a new hobby as soon as she flipped her emotions back on. "When she's this happy? Not a chance in hell. I'll deal with any hair products I have to if it means that I get to see her smile again."

Stefan's joking mood diminished a bit, and Damon knew the question before he even had to ask it. "She's getting better. The guilt's still there, and the pain hits her sometimes so hard that she can't breathe—but she's getting there."

Damon didn't need to say anything else. From the look on his brother's face, Damon knew that he had heard her nightmares over the past few nights—anyone within a mile's distance could have heard her screams of agony.

"Good, she doesn't deserve to be miserable forever—no matter how much she thinks she does."

With that, Stefan headed out for the party, leaving Damon to deal with the estrogen filled quarters upstairs.

* * *

Elena had been right earlier—it had taken the girls so long to get ready that the party was already swinging by the time they arrived. Well, as "swinging" as a founder's council party could get. Caroline ditched them as soon as Tyler was in her line of sight in the driveway. Damon and Elena walked up towards the front door, but Damon was quickly grabbed by a council-member on the front porch, leaving Elena standing in wait until he was finished. She walked to the end of the patio, watching the throngs of late partiers exit their cars and walk to the front door. She was admiring the dresses of the other women when suddenly she heard her name from behind her.

"Elena? Is that you?"

Elena turned around to the familiar voice. Bonnie had finally shown, and Elena could barely contain her excitement at seeing her best friend. Hearing Bonnie brought some semblance of a smile to her face, but when she saw Bonnie's expression, it dropped automatically. Instead of the glee Elena had hoped to see, Bonnie's face was filled with fiery rage. Granted, Elena figured she probably deserved it after leaving for ten years, but she'd hoped that as her best friend, Bonnie would just be happy to see her.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Bonnie asked accusingly, anger shining in her eyes. She felt a pang of guilt at the look on her friend's face, and she began to wonder where Damon was in case this was not the heartfelt meeting Elena had been expecting for days.

"I had to come back for Caroline, and for myself," Elena stated, "It was time for a change."

"Well, where have you been for the past ten years?"

Elena was taken aback by Bonnie's strong emotions, and since she hadn't experienced them herself in years, she wasn't quite sure how to react. "Here, there… You know how it is."

Bonnie quirked her head, a sarcastic smile coming over her face. "No, actually I don't know how it is, Elena. I stayed here, went to Whitmore and studied with Shane," Bonnie stated, "I've been living here ever since you left, and you never even called. How could you?"

The guilt and pain was creeping back into Elena, and she suddenly wished that she hadn't left Damon's side. She saw him on the other side of the porch, but he didn't notice her. Hopefully he would soon before she started balling. "I just couldn't stay here after everything that happened, Bonnie. I'd thought that you of all people would understand."

"No, I wouldn't! You weren't the only person that lost Jeremy, Elena!" Bonnie yelled, finally grabbing Damon's attention as her voice rose above the murmurs of the crowd, "I loved him, but I had to stay here and deal with it—I couldn't run away from it. I had to organize the funeral since you left before we even found his body. You think you can leave for ten years and just act like you never left?"

Elena's emotions threatened to swallow her again. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, and her breathing became labored. Bonnie was right—she'd just left, with no word of where she was going, and made the people she supposedly loved clean up the mess she'd made. Who would have thought that she could survive Liz's funeral, but fall apart as soon as she talked to her supposed best friend? "Bonnie, I…," she choked out before Damon came to the rescue, wrapping his arm around her to try and hold her together as he realized how close she was to breaking down. He knew it had been a mistake to let her come out this soon after turning her emotions back on, but in this moment he hated being right.

"Bonnie, back to your bitchiest, I see," Damon remarked, shaking his head as Bonnie's anger grew. "Where have you been hiding all week?"

"I thought you were joking when you said you were going to find her, Damon," Bonnie griped as she ignored his question, her accusatory eyes glaring first at Damon, and then back at Elena. It was clear to Elena why Bonnie had avoided her at the funeral—she was furious at Elena for leaving town, and Elena couldn't blame her for that. Bonnie had ignored all of their calls throughout the week, not wanting to see the girl she'd once called a friend but now called a betrayer. "She hasn't been here for ten years, and she sure as hell doesn't deserve to be here now."

"She can be wherever the hell she wants to be, Bonnie," Damon threatened in a low voice, his protectiveness coming out as he took in Elena's tormented aura. She'd been strong enough to muscle through with Caroline, and he wasn't about to let judgey screw up Elena's winning streak. "After everything she went through, she doesn't have to answer to anyone."

"What about everything _we_ went through, Damon?" Bonnie retorted, "You were a mess for years after she left! Stefan had to clean up after everything she did, and you know how much it hurt him. It nearly killed Care and me when she left without a goodbye, and yet she doesn't even seem to care!"

It took every ounce of control for Damon not to backhand her across the room. The callback to the hell-filled time after Elena had left made the poor girl in his arms shake, and Damon could tell that she was about to break—ruining every bit of progress they'd made over the week. The fact that Bonnie could not even notice the agony she was putting Elena through by bringing up everything she felt guilty for made him so furious that red tinted the edges of his vision. "Of course she cares, Bonnie," he gritted through his teeth, "but she's in so much pain right now that it's taking everything in her to keep from falling apart. So if ever talk to her like that again, you'll regret it."

Bonnie sensed the volatility in his attitude, and glanced towards Elena for her to step in—afterall, the old Elena would have stood up to Damon for threatening her. When Elena couldn't say anything because her emotions were overwhelming her, Bonnie mistook it for betrayal. Exasperated, Bonnie glared, grimacing at her friend. "Unbelievable. You can't even stand up against him. You're not the same girl you used to be, Elena, and I don't like the new you. Maybe you should go back to wherever you disappeared to for the past decade," Bonnie growled, spinning and stomping towards the car line, leaving a destroyed Elena in her wake. Her entire frame was trembling as the guilt began to overwhelm her.

Damon quickly pulled Elena out of the crowd and into a more private area, grabbing her face in his hands. The tears began flowing over the brims of her eyelids, and Damon rubbed them away with his thumbs as he placed a kiss on her forehead. "Elena, she doesn't know what she's talking about, okay? If she knew what really happened she never would have said that to you."

Elena's breaths were coming in tortured gasps as she argued with him. "But she would have thought it! And everything she said was true—I don't deserve to be here. I destroyed everything and then left you all to clean up my mess," she mumbled, the guilt shooting through her mind like meteors. Her body shook as the tears began to drip down her cheeks, coming steadily now no matter how hard Damon tried to wipe them away.

"Nothing that happened was your fault, Elena," Damon assured her, "and nobody blames you—Bonnie's just upset, and when she finds out the truth, she'll feel horrible for everything she said. Caroline understood, and once Bonnie knows everything, she will, too."

Elena looked up at him with the guilt-ridden, doe eyes he hadn't seen in years, and his heart melted in his chest. "R…really?" she whimpered, and he realized just how much she truly believed that she wasn't worthy of forgiveness. He pulled her into a hug, kissing the warmth of her hair as he ran his fingers through the ends of it.

"Of course," he assured her, knowing for a fact that it was true, "now let's get back to the party. We deserve a little fun."

Little did they know that fun wasn't in their future.

* * *

A/N: Everything can't run smoothly forever, right? I'll admit I'm not a huge fan of Bonnie and some might say she's out of character, but in this instance she's coming from a place of pain and hurt over the fact that Elena just disappeared after Jeremy died. And it may seem like Caroline just totally brushed it off, but she's got some anger, too, and later the girls are going to try and work through some of their issues. Also, this may have felt like a "blah" chapter, but the next chapter's gonna get crazy, y'all! I hope you liked it, and I can't wait to hear what you have to say about the chapter! Remember, people, feedback is love-so read and review!

Also, do you guys like the length of the chapters? Because I can keep them the length that they are, or make them shorter/longer :) it's up to you all, so write it in a comment! I love to hear your opinions and critiques!

-Kiki :)

_Quote:Elena Gilbert, Season 1 Episode 20, "Blood Brothers"_


End file.
